The Fix
by B L Lindley Anderson
Summary: Master Qui-Gon develops a mysterious illness which affects his midiclorians. How will this affect his Force ability? Will Obi-Wan be able to get him back to Coruscant in time for a life saving medical treatment?


The Fix (First story in a series)

By B. L. Lindley-Anderson

Old Republic

Summary: Master Qui-Gon develops a mysterious illness which affects his midiclorians. How will this affect his Force ability? Will Obi-Wan be able to get him back to Coruscant in time for a life saving medical treatment?

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Rating PG

Suddenly he was awake—his body spasmed, bringing him to a semiconscious state. Hardly daring to breath, he strained with all his being to listen—to determine what had rudely interrupted his much needed sleep. There was nothing, however, save the hiss of air through the ventilation system. The weariness that had wracked his body when he lay down to sleep had not been dissipated by the long hours of rest. As much as the tall, sturdy man wanted to simply roll over and go back to sleep, he knew that was not an option. Glancing at the chronometer on the wall, he quietly cursed the fact that he was late—and yet still so drained.

Swinging his bare feet to the soft, light blue pile of the carpet, the brooding man slowly rose to a sitting position. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he rested his darkly bearded chin in his hands. _Must be coming down with something_. That was his only explanation for the run down state. While he considered the advisability of going to see one of the healers, an electronic chime sounded, alerting him to a visitor at the door.

He finally rose, but not to his full height. A slump of the broad shoulders was pronounced as he stumbled to the door. Hitting a keypad adjacent to the entrance caused the electronic door to recede into a pocket in the wall. Standing in the entryway was a younger handsome man with closely cropped hair, save for the long braid which hung just behind his right ear. He was dressed with a long brown hooded robe—and a lopsided grin, which quickly became a straight thin line as he looked into the older man's dull blue eyes.

"Master?" he questioned, the concern evident in his voice. "Didn't you sleep? I thought with the busy day we had yesterday…well…I thought that's why you were late…that you might still be in bed."

"I was still in bed, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon Jinn turned from the door and stumbled to a chair which he promptly slumped into.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan quickly made his way to his master's side and knelt next to the chair.

"Yes, I'm fine," his words said, but there was fatigue apparent in his voice. "I slept well, but I do still feel tired. I think I may be getting sick, that's all."

"Are you sure, Master? You look terrible. Maybe you should go to a healer."

"Maybe so. Maybe later. We have a lot to do today and we—I—am late as it is." Qui-Gon rose unhurriedly. To Obi-Wan each movement seemed to be filled with pain.

"A quick shower. A nice _hot_ shower—and we'll be on our way to the Jedi temple."

Obi-Wan took the chair just vacated. Settling into the residual warmth, he considered his master—and his condition. During the council meetings the pair had attended the previous day, the padawan had noticed that his master had seemed distracted. He had missed a couple of important points, which had to be repeated for him. That was most certainly out of character for his teacher. His wisdom, insight and quick mind rarely missed much. Also, Qui-Gon had ended their daily training session early. He had looked pale and drained.

Obi-Wan steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips as his brow furrowed. Something was wrong with Master Qui-Gon. Perhaps it was merely that he was ill. No need to jump to conclusions until the obvious had been ruled out Obi-Wan told himself

"Late you are, Qui-Gon," Yoda rebuked the Jedi master as he and Obi-Wan entered the council chamber.

"Yes, Master Yoda. It is my fault and I apologize to you and to all the members of the council for making you wait for me." Qui-Gon bowed slightly as he delivered his apology.

"It is not your nature to make us wait," Mace Windu's eyes narrowed as he studied the tired, wan face.

"No, my master. It is not." Qui-Gon sensed the unspoken request for explanation. He hesitated before replying. "I…uh…over slept." He winced at the frail sounding justification.

"Mmmm," Yoda muttered as he touched the Force. "I feel a great weariness in you…a sense of infirmity."

"I believe that I may have contracted an affliction of some sort. It is of no consequence."

"Well, that explains your distracted behavior yesterday, " Master Windu observed. "Perhaps you would like to visit a healer before we begin."

"I intend to stop by the healer after we conclude our business." Qui-Gon held up his hand to forestall the reaction he knew was coming from the two council members. "I do feel drained, however, I _am_ able to continue." Qui-Gon drew himself up stiff and straight and tipped his head very slightly back to emphasize his resoluteness on the issue.

"Very well," Mace Windu granted as he and Yoda exchanged a quick glance. They knew through the Force the depth of fatigue Qui-Gon felt. And Qui-Gon _knew_ that they knew. However, he knew the importance of this meeting and he did not want to hold it up.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been chosen for a mission to the planet of Janorda. On the largest continent of the planet, two races made up approximately 90% of the population. While it was true that the Yanadas and the Hustans had never had the best of relationships, recent developments on the planet were worsening things to the point of a possible worldwide war. Severe weather conditions on the emerald green agricultural world had devastated crops worldwide. The changeable border between the Hustans and the Yanadas had suddenly come under further dispute by both sides. Each race was jockeying for a position that would give them the better producing lands along the border. As the hostile neighbors argued and raided each other's lands, the remaining tribes, realizing they were on the losing side, being such a small percent of the population, each began taking a side in the dispute. The tension, attacks and killing was escalating day by day. Therefore, the Jedi council had chosen to intervene to try to put a quick end to the conflict.

The meetings thus far had been to make the Jedi master and his padawan aware of the background of the planet and the warring races. Today's meeting was to plan strategy for resolving the clash and to determine what the council could do to help the food shortage on Janorda. Qui-Gon was well aware of the urgency of settling the situation before a full-scale war broke out. If he could just make it through this meeting, then he could have a break to tend to himself before he and Obi-Wan were scheduled to leave Coruscant. If he could only just sit down awhile….

By the end of the day, Qui-Gon had to admit to himself that he couldn't go on any longer. It was to his great sense of relief that he and Obi-Wan took their leave of the Jedi Council. However, before he could get out the door, Yoda called to him.

"Qui-Gon, we require you to attend a healer. Before we allow you to leave on this mission, assured we must be that you are well enough to carry it out."

"Yes, Yoda," Qui-Gon responded. "I was on my way just now."

"Send us a report, you will. The Force go with you."

"Thank you." Qui-Gon bowed and turned to leave, his padawan close behind.

"I didn't think you were going to be able to make it through the meetings," Obi-Wan said as the elevator doors closed behind them.

"I am quite able to take care of myself," the older man growled. "I don't need all of you to tell me what to do."

The retort took the padawan by surprise. He was so shocked that he didn't know what to say…so he said nothing, but looked away.

Qui-Gon rubbed his haggard face with both hands, took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. I had no right to snap at you like that. Please forgive me."

Obi-Wan tried not to show his affront he felt. Attempting to work up a grin, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Don't worry about it, Master. I know you don't feel well."

The elevator stopped at the floor where the healers were located. He stepped out of the elevator and turned…as he expected, his tyro was moving forward to exit the lift behind him. Qui-Gon placed his hand on the padawan's shoulder and gently pressed him back into the elevator.

"You go on ahead. I'll be along soon."

"But, Master, " Obi-Wan began. "I…"

"I know," Qui-Gon interrupted. "I'd rather go alone. I'm sure it's nothing and you could use the time to get ready to leave for the trip to Janorda."

Obi-Wan hesitated and then opened his mouth to respond.

"It'll be alright, Padawan. I'll let you know." Qui-Gon removed his hand from holding the elevator doors open. The last sight of his apprentice showed a face filled with worry and confusion.

"But it doesn't take that long to process the test results." Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he looked at the healer called Kiel. "Is there a problem?"

"Master Qui-Gon, my apologies. Yes, I do have the results back on the blood sample that I took. However, I am still a novice and I would like to ask my trainer about the results. I am, frankly, confused by what I see."

"So, it isn't normal?" Qui-Gon questioned guardedly.

"That I can not say. That is why I would like to ask Mi'al to look at the results. I don't mean to set you at unease. I am sorry. I am unable to answer any questions because I do not understand the outcome of the blood test."

"It's all right." But it wasn't all right. However, there was nothing to be done about it. "When will you be able to talk with Mi'al?"

"This late in the day, I may not be able to catch him. It may be tomorrow before I can give you any answers," Kiel replied regretfully.

"Very well. I understand. However, you will let me know as soon as you can."

"Of course, Master Qui-Gon. In the meantime I would suggest you get as much rest as you can. I'm sure it will help."

"Yes, thank you." The Jedi turned and exited the healer's exam room. As he trudged down the hallway, Qui-Gon tried to touch the Force, to see what he could sense from the healer. Confusion—that's the only thing he could read—utter confusion. He didn't sense concern or dismay—just bewilderment. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. What did this mean? Is there a problem or not? Sighing deeply as he got into the elevator, he determined not to dwell on it but to focus on getting ready for his mission to Janorda.

Qui-Gon had grabbed a quick snack and a hot shower and had just seated himself on the couch to rest for a few minutes when the door chime sounded. Too weary to get back up, he reached out with the Force and hit the button to open the door. As he was expecting, Obi-Wan was on the other side.

"Master?" Obi-Wan said slowly as he stood in the hallway.

"Don't stand in the hallway. Come in. Have a seat. You're welcome to any refreshment you'd like to have, but I require you to help yourself." Qui-Gon tried to make light of his remark, hoping his apprentice wouldn't see through his real reason for saying that.

"No, thank you, Master." Obi-Wan dropped into a chair across from his tutor. "I just wanted to come by and see…well…"

"It's OK, Padawan. I truly am sorry for snapping at you earlier. It has made you hesitant to even bring up the subject." Qui-Gon hesitated as he tried to decide what to tell the young man. He looked down at the floor and sighed. What was he going to tell the Jedi council? _Drat the timing of this _he thought to himself. Refocusing on his apprentice he began, "I don't know what to tell you, Obi-Wan."

Those words coupled with the delay in answering caused Obi-Wan to fear the worst. He slid forward to the edge of the chair he was sitting in.

Noticing this reaction, his master quickly began to clarify. "Let me explain. I didn't mean to imply that anything was wrong. The truth is…I don't know if there is anything wrong or not. The healer, Kiel, found nothing wrong on the initial examination. However, the results of the blood test he performed were…confusing…to him."

"Confusing?" Obi-Wan repeated as he twisted his face into a scowl.

"He said he hasn't seen anything like this before…and being a novice…he wanted Mi'al to have a look."

"But…he couldn't tell you if there was a problem or not?"

"He didn't want to comment since he didn't understand what he was seeing," Qui-Gon said in frustration. "However, I can't blame him. If I were in his place, I would probably feel the same way."

"So it may be nothing…or it may be…" the padawan trailed off.

"Nothing," Qui-Gon repeated. "Kiel is a novice. This is something he has not seen before. I feel that if there were something amiss, he probably would have recognized it."

"Yes," mumbled Obi-Wan. He wanted to accept his master's comfort, but inside he felt uneasy about the situation.

The Jedi master rose and walked over to where his student sat. He placed his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Padawan, you must not dwell on uncertainties. This produces anxiety and causes you to lose your focus. Think on our mission. I still have some things to get ready. Are you finished with your preparations?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan muttered as he tried to recenter himself. Then he had a new thought. "Master, what will you tell the council? Master Yoda wanted to know what the healer said."

"I will tell him the truth, Padawan. There is no other choice and Yoda would expect nothing different of me." Qui-Gon went back to the sofa and slumped down. He absently rubbed his bearded chin as he murmured thoughtfully, "This may impact our departure. And this is a very critical time for Janorda."

The alarm chime sounded and Qui-Gon rolled over to silence it. Again, even though he had gotten to bed quite early, the extra sleep had done little to restore him. He knew deep inside that something was wrong, something serious. He put the thought out of his mind at once and rose from the bed.

As he got himself ready for the day and for his trip to Janorda, Qui-Gon kept one eye on the chronometer. He wanted to make contact with Kiel as soon as he could. Also, he was trying to think of a way to tell the council about this, without affecting the mission he had been assigned to.

Precisely at the time he knew the healer would be arriving at his office, the Jedi set his comm link and called Kiel.

"I'm sorry Master Qui-Gon. Mi'al was unable to look at the blood test before he left last night. He said he would have a look first thing this morning."

Trying to keep annoyance from his voice, Qui-Gon replied, "I understand, however, I am supposed to leave Coruscant this morning."

"I realize that but there is nothing I can do to change the situation. You must change your arrangements. Would you like for me to speak with the Jedi council?"

"No, no," Qui-Gon replied more quickly than he intended. "I'll do that. Just please let me know something as fast as you can."

"Of course," Kiel said simply and then closed the communication.

Settling onto the bed, Qui-Gon realized he couldn't put it off any longer. He had to contact the Jedi council and give them the news. Sighing deeply, he adjusted his comm link to contact Yoda. Instead of Yoda, however, an assistant answered and told Qui-Gon that the Jedi council was in an emergency session and was not to be disturbed. Stretching out on the bed, the Jedi mentor tried to decide if that was a good thing or not. It would give him more time to hear from Mi'al before he had to report to the council…but he didn't know what the healer's news would be. As he reflected on the circumstances, his comm link beeped. Opening the frequency he discovered that it was a docking bay attendant calling to let him know that his transport to Janorda was ready whenever he was prepared to depart. Qui-Gon thanked him and put his comm link away.

The immediate circumstances whirled in Qui-Gon's head. He had a transport at his disposal. Normally he could leave right away. If only he didn't have to wait on the healers. He quickly sat up on the bed.

_No, it wouldn't be right_ he told himself. _Don't even think it. It would defy the council. _The pensive look intensified as he thought _it wouldn't be the first time I have defied the council_. Without another thought to the consequences, Qui-Gon grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

"Good morning, Master." Obi-Wan's face showed his surprise as he opened his door.

"Are you ready to leave, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked. "The transport is ready and we must hurry."

"Uh…yes…I'm ready. Ah…I take it you have heard from the healers."

"No, not yet." _Here comes the showdown_ Qui-Gon thought to himself.

"Then the council has agreed for you to go anyway?" The confusion was evident in his pupil's voice.

"No." The answer was short and simple—and brooked no argument.

"I don't understand. What…"

"There's nothing to understand," the older man interrupted. "We are leaving for Janorda right away."

"But…"

"No buts." Qui-Gon brought his index finger up and tipped his head down slightly to emphasize the _no_ in his answer. "Are you ready to leave or not?"

"Yes…"

"Good. Our transport is ready. Shall we go?"

Questions swirled in the padawan's mind as he followed Qui-Gon. _Why is he doing this? Again—defying the council. But this time, at the possible expense of his own health. Why does he not want to hear from the healers? What will the council say when they discover we have left without reporting to them first?_

Qui-Gon could sense the uneasiness in his learner through the Force. However, he offered no explanation of any kind. He had made his mind up that this mission was important and should not be delayed. Many lives may depend on the Jedis' actions at the negotiating table.

The two Jedi boarded the small transport. They would be the only occupants. Because the council had no idea how the negotiations would go or how long they might last, they had decided only to send the Jedi pair. Also, the small transport afforded them with another advantage, which they didn't know if they might need—speed, in case the warring parties of the planet did not warmly receive the duo.

Qui-Gon received clearance from the control room of the docking bay and expertly piloted the ship out of the bay. Since preparations for this trip had been under way a couple of days ago, all items had already been approved by the council and there was no reason for the bay crew to contact the committee prior to the ship leaving.

Having flown beyond the controlled space surrounding Coruscant, the older Jedi made the proper entries into the ship's computer for the jump to hyperspace. Even though he had made many such trips, still the experience of accelerating to light speed never ceased to lose its thrill; Qui-Gon doubted that it ever would.

"Well, Padawan, another journey, another chance for you to learn and grow." Obi-Wan had been inordinately quiet since they had boarded the transport and his master was trying to draw him out.

The young man looked over to his master. The handsome face was pale and drawn. Obi-Wan still didn't understand why Qui-Gon was doing this. Especially since he knew it was an action he would have criticized in another. Was that out-of-character attitude part of what was wrong with his teacher? If Qui-Gon's judgement were becoming impaired, would he be able to count on him? Should he contact the Jedi council?

At the moment that Obi-Wan had that thought, Kiel was desperately trying to make contact with Qui-Gon. Kiel hesitated at the thought that entered his head after he had failed to get in touch with the Jedi. However, he knew that Qui-Gon had not simply turned off his comm link. If he had, the automated system would have informed him that the link was off. The communication unit was powered on—but had to be off the planet. That wasn't possible, was it? Kiel tried to get through to the Jedi council but was headed off by Yoda's assistant who informed the healer of the emergency meeting.

"I understand. However, my news is quite important. I do need to speak with Yoda before more time elapses."

"One moment," the assistant informed Kiel. "I will speak with Master Yoda."

The troubled healer fidgeted while he waited. After what seemed to be several long minutes, a familiar voice came over the device.

"Kiel, what have you?"

"I'm sorry, Master. I know I am hampering important business, but this is important also." Kiel hesitated to see if there would be a rebuke for the obstruction. He took the silence as a sign to continue. "I have been trying to contact Qui-Gon and there is no response. I know he was scheduled to leave this morning. Has he already gone?"

"Qui-Gon was not to leave until your report we heard. Certain you are of your comm link?'

"Yes, that was the first thing I checked."

"Sound upset you do. Something is wrong?"

"Yes, Master. Something dreadful is wrong."

Yoda listened without interruption. At the end of Kiel's narrative, his ears drooped and a gasp escaped from his drawn mouth. "To the temple at once. To the council you must report this."

Mi'al and Kiel stood in the center of the Jedi council meeting room. They were ill at ease because of the message they bore.

"Speak," Yoda intoned. "Share you must your findings with the council."

Even though Kiel had made the actual finding, he gladly deferred to the elder healer who had recognized the full implications of what his apprentice had discovered.

"As you already know, Qui-Gon came to Kiel for an examination because he had not been well the last few days. Mostly he has been feeling very fatigued and lethargic. No amount of rest alleviated these symptoms." A couple of the council members shuffled in their seats. This was old information and they were anxious for Mi'al to come to his point.

"Kiel could find nothing out of the ordinary until he checked Qui-Gon's blood chemistry. We run a standard set of tests on every blood sample that comes through our lab. One of these is a midiclorian count. As part of the health profile, we have on our records the midiclorian count of every Jedi." Mi'al hesitated as he considered how to break his news.

"Please," Ki-Adi-Mundi urged. "We are desirous to know what you have to tell us."

The healer took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. "Qui-Gon's midiclorian count has decreased."

A disturbed murmur ran through the council chamber.

"What?" Mace Windu retorted. Then quieter, "Are you sure? Have you ever seen this happen before?"

"I have triple checked the results. His count is lower than what is on record by 25%. And, no, I have never seen any Jedi's count decrease."

"What could cause this?" Yarael Poof asked.

"We have isolated a virus in the blood sample which appears to be attacking the blood cells. A virus normally attaches itself to a cell and uses the reproductive activity of that cell to turn out copies of itself. So this virus is doing in the sample we analyzed."

"So it is increasing its concentration in Qui-Gon's blood?"

"Yes. However, the white blood cells, which normally attack viruses seem unable to have any effect on these virus phages. As I said, it is attacking the blood cells. The damage it is doing to the cells accounts, I believe, for the white cells inability to do their job. Also the red blood cells are unable to properly function—cannot carry oxygen as efficiently, for example. This is part of the reason for the lethargy and tiredness Qui-Gon is experiencing, another part being the drop in midiclorian count. As the virus population increases in his blood stream, the more his blood will be attacked—and the sicker he will become." Mi'al stopped for another deep breath. "There is one other thing you need to know." The room fell into total silence. No one even dared breath as they waited this final pronouncement.

"This virus is not a naturally occurring one."

"Explain," Mace Windu shot back.

"It is a _manufactured_ virus."

Gasps of disbelief sounded through the ranks of the council.

Ki-Adi-Mundi finally spoke, "Do you mean…"

"Yes, someone has artificially created this virus."

"As a weapon?" Yarael Poof questioned.

"No other conclusion I can see," Yoda spoke up. "For what other reason would one create a substance to deliberately attack blood cells?"

"Is this aimed specifically at the Jedi?" Mace Windu wondered out loud.

"That would depend," Ki-Adi-Mundi began, "on whether its primary target is the midiclorians. Mi'al said it attacks blood cells." The council looked to the healer for an answer.

"The element of the blood which suffers the greatest decrease is the midiclorians."

Complete quiet again fell across the room as the impact sank into each member of the council.

"Know you how to rid the body of this virus," Yoda asked as his hand went to his chin.

"Not yet," Mi'al regretfully admitted. "We are working on it. There are two avenues of attack. We are trying to enhance the body's natural infection fighting abilities. Also we are working on a vaccine to kill the viruses. However, so far nothing we have tried seems to have any effect on the virus." Mi'al stopped to consider and then asked, "Do any of you know where Qui-Gon is right now? We have been trying to contact him."

"Gone he is," Yoda replied. "After we talked, checked I did. He and Obi-Wan…on their way to Janorda."

The transport came out of hyperspace near a green and teal variegated orb.

"It's beautiful," Obi-Wan whispered in awe at the gleaming gem set on the dark of space.

"Yes, Padawan. The low level of industrialization of the planet has left the air clear and the seas clean. Well, we'd better make contact with the planetary officials to get clearance for landing." Even though the Jedi master was trying to be upbeat, he couldn't hide his exhaustion from Obi-Wan. The apprentice was beginning to realize his mistake of not stopping his master from leaving Coruscant. However, he had not known what to do to stop him. Qui-Gon was quite stubborn and once his mind was made up, it would be easier to contain a Rancor than to hold the Jedi back from his chosen course.

It had been agreed beforehand that the Jedi would meet with the Hustans first. This decision had had to be made by lot because the at-variance parties were unable to agree on which race should talk with the emissaries initially; each side feared an advantage for the ones who had first say in the peace talks. This had been an indicator to Qui-Gon that the negotiations would not be short—or easy.

As the transport settled on the landing pad, the two envoys could see an honor guard of Hustan soldiers. A humanoid race, the Hustans were somewhat shorter than the average Homo sapien. Their body size was not in proportion to their height, however. They had thick limbs but they were quite long in relation to their chunky bodies. Their appearance was unusual also due to the fact that they lacked any type of bodily hair except for the crown of their very round heads. The Hustans made up for their awkward looking form, however, with the very elaborate clothing and accoutrements that they wore. The guard looked splendid in their crimson jackets with bright gold toned buttons, epaulets, and braid. Their black hide breeches were tucked into shiny black knee length boots. Each soldier boldly wore insignia of their units, and of their achievements. The Hustans greatly rewarded all accomplishments, no matter how small. So, each soldier had a great number of brightly embroidered patches, medals, and decorations covering each arm of their uniforms.

Walking down the center of the double line of guards was a distinguished looking male. He was dressed in a royal blue silk jacket and matching breeches, both embroidered with gold thread. His knee length boots were teal, trimmed in black. His snow-white hair was full and carefully combed into a highly stylized coiffure, which spilled down the sides of his head like a waterfall. He brashly walked toward the transport, his head held high. Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile to himself. No matter what race one dealt with, politicians remained constant: cocky, self-assured and sure to put on a good show. As he exhaled a sigh, he found himself hoping that this was one politician who was more than only show.

Qui-Gon had almost forgotten how bad he felt until he began to rise from his seat. Exhaustion swept over him, as well as a wave of dizziness. He put his hand out to the seat to steady himself and looked to see if Obi-Wan had noticed. He had not; he was still looking at the spectacle outside the window of the ship.

"Focus on the Force, Padawan. This could be a mission filled with lots of posturing and attempts at manipulation. These two races have had a long-standing quarrel and it won't be settled easily. We need to have our wits about us to avoid broadening the breech."

"Yes, Master. I understand. Do you think we will be able to help them reach a settlement?"

"Only time will tell, Obi-Wan. We must do our best. That is all we can do."

The two Jedi moved to the door of the ship. It slid open and Qui-Gon started down the few steps. However, his unsteadiness caused him to misjudge and he slipped on the step. Simultaneously, he grabbed the rail to steady himself, Obi-Wan grasped his master's arms to try to halt his fall, and the Hustan official ran up the steps to try to save Qui-Gon from falling also. More embarrassed than anything else, Qui-Gon quickly dismounted the stairs before anything further could go amiss.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan and the Hustan asked together.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a misstep." Then to distract attention from himself, he quickly added, " We are the ambassadors from Coruscant. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn and this is my apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Most honored to meet you. I am Kelal Ja, governor of this province." He shook Qui-Gon's hand most vigorously and then pumped Obi-Wan's hand with equal verve. "Please, come. I am sure you would like to rest and refresh yourselves after your journey." Kelal led the two men between the lines of troops to a waiting six wheeled vehicle where a polished and embellished driver quickly moved to open the door for his ruler.

During the drive to the governor's manor, Kelal kept up a one-sided exposition on everything from the Yanada-Hustan disagreement, to the noteworthy sites of his capital city, to the latest fashions. The master and his apprentice merely listened politely and nodded when appropriate. Just as the driver pulled up to the governor's residence, Kelal's cheeks blushed.

"I am most sorry for running on and on so. Here I have monopolized the conversation. We don't often have off world visitors, and certainly not of your caliber. It isn't often I get to engage in conversation with such. Please forgive me," Kelal bowed his head with his apology.

"No apology or explanation is necessary," Qui-Gon replied graciously. "It is quite interesting to know where you stand on current affairs."

Obi-Wan marveled at the elder Jedi. How was he able to come up with such affirmative and conciliatory statements? That was one of the qualities that made him such a fine diplomat. Obi-Wan wondered if he would ever be able to perform as well in that capacity as his master.

The driver leaped to open the door. Kelal exited the vehicle and stepped to the side for his guests to join him. Qui-Gon made a move to leave the vehicle and again, his unsteadiness was his undoing. He once more almost took a spill as he shifted his weight to the foot that was on the pavement. Kelal and the door provided handholds for the Jedi to catch himself. Just as quickly Qui-Gon pulled his hand away from the governor.

"I'm most sorry to fall on you like that, sir." Qui-Gon could feel his face burn red with embarrassment. He stammered as he tried to excuse himself; he was running out of excuses.

"It's alright, Master Jedi. You seem very pale and tired. Your journey has been a rough one, no? We must get you a room at once so you can get some rest."

At the time Qui-Gon had wanted to argue with Kelal about resting. He knew he should start working on negotiations. This was an important task. Now that he was lying down, however, he was glad that he had taken the governor up on his suggestion. Almost immediately, the Jedi fell into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile Kelal was in his secure chamber meeting with his top advisors.

"Well," one of them jumped up and began pacing the room. "What is your impression of them? Do we have anything to worry about?"

"I've hardly had time to size them up, Horan. We haven't had very much time to talk," the governor waved his hands in exasperation at his deputy.

"If you hadn't given in to the Senate those Jedi wouldn't be here in the first place," Horan walked slowly toward the governor, shaking a long bony finger at him.

"I didn't have much choice. As members of the Republic we are bound by the Republic's laws—and answerable to their government and their law enforcers. The Supreme Chancellor insisted on sending the Jedi to mediate this dispute."

"Please!" the other man at the table interposed himself in the argument. General Ronan, leader of the Hustan armed Forces, found that he was having to interpose himself between these two more and more during disputes. "Gentlemen, we are here to discuss the Jedi and the Yanadas and the drought. Not politics or personalities. Please, Governor, did you learn anything that might be helpful to us? These Jedi are known for their training and their ability to manipulate this thing they call the Force. They are reputed to be all but invincible. If we are to get them out of our way so we can invade the Yanadas, we must find some weakness we can use to our advantage."

Kelal toyed with a stray strand of hair that kept tickling his ear. "I really learned nothing about them or their weapons or about their ideas for helping us. I have heard the same stories you have about their powers. I don't know how we can hope to defeat them."

Horan slammed his fist on the table. "There has to be a way! No one is invincible! Everyone has a weakness. We just need to use these next couple of days while they are here to find out what is weak about these Jedi."

Suddenly something occurred to Kelal. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "The master, Qui-Gon Jinn, he seems to be ill or something. That is why I got him a room right away. He is very pale and appears to be weak or tired. He stumbled while exiting his transport and when he was getting out of my vehicle. If he is ailing—maybe we can overcome him while he is weak.

Horan hurried around and slapped the surprised Kelal on the back. "That's one of the most helpful things I've ever heard you say!"

Meanwhile, in his room, sitting slumped on the bed; Obi-Wan was becoming increasingly concerned about his master. His health seemed to be slipping away before the padawan's eyes. As he brooded over this and what he should do, his comm link beeped.

"Yes," he said into it.

"Obi-Wan, thank goodness. I'm glad I finally got through to someone. I've been trying to contact Qui-Gon. Is his comm link in working order?"

"I don't know. Who is this?"

"My apologies. I'm Mi'al, the healer."

"The healer?" Obi-Wan suddenly straightened. "You must have grave news to be calling Qui-Gon here."

"Unfortunately, I do have critical information for your master. Can you put me in touch with him?"

"Yes, I can. He's asleep just now, but I'm sure he'll want to hear…"

"No, no. If he is sleeping, that's the more important thing. He needs to get as much rest as he can right now. I can speak with him when he awakens—if you will just make sure he does contact me."

Obi-Wan hesitated but then decided to ask anyway, "Can you tell me what's wrong with Master Qui-Gon."

"Hmmm…" Mi'al delayed answering as he considered. "I know individual medical information is private; however, I think under the circumstances you have a need to know what's going on. We may need your help."

Mi'al told Obi-Wan about the virus, its method of attack and the Jedi council's suspicions. Obi-Wan listened breathlessly, not daring to interrupt, not wanting to believe.

"Are you telling me that this is going to be fatal?"

"We are still trying to find a cure. It's premature to give up now. Incidentally, you don't need to worry about getting the virus from Qui-Gon. It's not communicable." 

"It isn't? But I thought all viruses were communicable."

"Normally they are. However, as I said, this virus has been genetically engineered. Therefore, it is exhibiting behavior not typical of viruses. We have observed no tendency to be transmittable to other Jedi. Apparently, it must be directly injected into the body to infect that body."

"So, we need to return to Coruscant right away?"

"That is what we wanted to discuss with Qui-Gon. His…ah…quick departure before indicates a determination to continue in spite of his recent illness. I was hoping to persuade him to return…"

Obi-Wan interrupted, "Don't you worry about that. We _will_ be returning as soon as I can get him to the ship. I don't think he's in a condition to put up a lot of resistance."

"Oh, it is that bad?"

"Yes. That is why we will be on our way shortly." The apprentice cut off the link without waiting for a response. He bounded to the door and threw it open. Crossing the hallway in two steps, Obi-Wan burst into Qui-Gon's room. There was no one there. When he had left the room earlier, his master was fast asleep on the bed. Now, however, there was no evidence that anyone had even been on the bed. The bed was made and the bed linens were fresh and unwrinkled. Looking around the room, Obi-Wan could find no indication that Qui-Gon had been in the room at all. His bag wasn't there. His meager traveling supplies were nowhere to be found. As if Qui-Gon had not been in the room at all. Obi-Wan's stomach began to knot. Something was wrong. He reached out with the Force to try to determine where his teacher was. Nothing. He could find no evidence of his presence in the Force. As if Qui-Gon was not there at all. Obi-Wan could feel the blood pound in his head as his heart started racing with the unease he felt.

The tyro raced from the room and down the halls. He had no idea where the governor was—but he intended to find him. A guard posted outside one of the doors was taken aback by the stranger charging down the corridor. He suddenly stepped out in Obi-Wan's path.

"Is something wrong, sir? May I be of assistance to you?"

In his agitated state, Obi-Wan could only blurt out, "Where is he?"

The wide-eyed soldier stared at this frantic young man and hesitated. Then he said simply, "Whom are you referring to?"

"I don't know what kind of game you are playing here, but I intend to find out." Already being very concerned about his master had taxed Obi-Wan's restraint. To find out how sick he was…and now to find his room made to look like it had been unoccupied was more than he could take. He was losing control and he knew it—but right now he didn't care. He shoved the guard aside and continued down the hallway. "Where is the governor?"

Kelal sat at his desk talking over some paperwork with Horan when the office door flew open. The padawan rushed in and stomped over to the desk. He leaned over almost into the governor's face.

"Where is he?"

Taking a moment to collect himself after being caught off guard by Obi-Wan's blatant entry, Kelal deliberately straightened his jacket and ran a hand carefully over his snowy coiffure. Rolling his chair back to put distance between him and the disturbed Jedi, the official slowly and coolly answered.

"It would help me to answer you if I had anticipated your arrival and if I knew what 'he' you are referring to."

The guard who had accosted Obi-Wan earlier had entered right behind him and now spoke up. "My apologies, Your Honor. Should I remove him?"

"No, it's all right, sergeant. We will over look this serious breech of etiquette this once. Obviously the young man is upset and not in control of himself. You may go."

The guard left, closing the door behind him. Obi-Wan was still leaning over the desk. His breathing had not slowed, nor had the anger in his face retreated. The posture unnerved the governor. He did not want to experience this power called "the Force"; he had heard too much of it. In order to distance himself from the irate Jedi, Kelal got up from his chair and began to pace.

"You haven't told us yet who you are looking for."

Obi-Wan straightened and followed each of Kelal's movements with his stormy eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he tried to bring his anger to restraint. He knew that Kelal knew who he was looking for and he was not in the mood for games.

Kelal was growing more uncomfortable by the second under that intense glare. Since the Jedi wouldn't answer, Kelal understood that he would have to give in first—just to be rid of the object of his unease. Kelal suddenly stopped pacing and tried to act as if an idea had just occurred to him.

"Oh! Do you mean the Jedi you came with? Yes, of course, who else would it be? You are a stranger here and know no one else. Well, the last I saw of your friend he was retiring to his room for a rest."

"I just came from his room, " the apprentice said through clenched teeth, trying hard to keep his feelings in check. "Not only is he not there. It looks as if he never was. The bed is made and all his belongings are gone."

"What! You jest! Gone? Where and why?"

"I was hoping you could answer that question for me." Obi-Wan could sense through the Force the level of uncomfort that the governor was feeling—and he wasn't about to let up on him.

"Me? Why, how should I know where he is? How do you know he didn't go out?"

"Because he would have told me."

"Oh, is he in the habit of telling you _everything_? Does he tell you when he goes to the bathroom, when he changes his underthings? Perhaps he wanted to see the city…or some of it's…more sensuous sites." Kelal chuckled at his joke. "Surely he wouldn't have told you about that, would he?"

Obi-Wan walked slowly over to the governor. He was trying so very hard; this was a real test of his training on control. Images formed in his mind of cracking open the governor's head. That's what he had to bring to heel. He didn't want to give into his anger; at the same time he knew how intimidated Kelal was by it, so he didn't want to be totally rid of it either. It was a fine line he was walking. It was a great temptation he was undertaking. He understood that—but he also knew that he had to find Master Qui-Gon, and quickly. "That's not the kind of man he is. We are here on a mission and he would put that above all things. And, yes, in a strange environment, he would tell me everywhere he went."

Kelal backed away from Obi-Wan and looked away quickly, hoping the anxiety didn't show in his face. "Well, this is disturbing then. If, as you say, he wouldn't have gone out without telling you, then we must start a search for him."

Finally Horan jumped into the conversation. "This is ridiculous, Your Honor, he must have just gone for a walk on the ground or be somewhere close by." Turning to smirk at Obi-Wan, he said smugly, "Surely he wouldn't have to report merely leaving his room."

"No more arguments, Horan, we must question the guards. If the Jedi left that room—however he left it—someone had to have seen him."

Qui-Gon awoke very slowly. He was still very groggy and had trouble keeping his eyes from closing. It was not a natural sleep he was waking from; he had been drugged—that was obvious even to his fuzzy mind. After a few minutes of drifting between sleep and wakefulness, he finally managed to pull himself up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He was startled to full awareness when his feet touched the floor. Expecting a nice fuzzy carpet under his feet, the Jedi was shocked when the cold of bare concrete came into contact with his uncovered feet. Fully opening his eyes, Qui-Gon was bewildered at how dark it was. Thinking it was night, he wondered to himself, _have I slept that long_? He stood and slowly began stumbling around the room. That's when he fully realized he was no longer in the bedroom the governor had shown him to. But where was he? Was he still at the governor's house at all?

The Jedi began feeling his way, both in search of a light source, and to see if he could figure out where he was. He ran into a heavy wooden table and cursed the luck of hitting his exposed toes against the leg. Turning from the table to try another direction, Qui-Gon next encountered a stool. Not being able to find it with his hands because of its height, he stumbled and fell over the stool. He howled in pain as his left shoulder impacted against the concrete floor. The grogginess, the pain, and frustration combined to cause Qui-Gon to merely sit quietly on the floor for a few minutes. He decided the injury to his shoulder was not serious. Nothing broken—just a little banged up. The pain began to subside and the master decided to try again to find a light source. This time, however, he decided to stay close to the floor. _That way I won't have as far to fall_ he told himself. Crawling on all fours on the chilly concrete was better than falling on it again. He located a wall and slowly got to his feet. The logical place for a light switch seemed to be the wall. But, remembering his earlier fiasco, Qui-Gon stayed bent over and kept his hand low as he followed the wall. Lucky for him that he did because he came upon a low table which he surely would have missed if he had kept his hands closer to shoulder level. Feeling his way around the table, the Jedi was rewarded as the sweep of his hand brought him to a switch on the wall. He toggled the switch and breathed a sigh of relief when light filled the room.

It was a small room. There was the cot he had slept on. A solid wooden table with some odd utensils occupied the middle of the room, with the ill-fated stool that now lay next to it. There was the small rough table near the light switch, which was next to a sturdy wooden door, reinforced with metal bands joining the planks. Against the opposite wall resided a well-used chair. That was the extent of the furnishings. The light source was recessed into the ceiling, leaving the room dim—_but better than no light_ Qui-Gon grimly thought. Above the chair on the other side of the room was a single small window. The Jedi hurried over to it. It was barred and had a dingy pane of glass beyond that. Outside all Qui-Gon could see was the street. If anyone had been on that street, he would have been able to see their feet and nothing much beyond that. _So_, he thought, _this room must be underground._ Suddenly he became aware of how weary he was. He staggered back to the meager cot and slumped down on it. _Is this the effect of whatever they drugged me with or is this the same tiredness I was feeling before?_ He didn't ponder that too long, however. His more immediate thought was why he was here and how to get out. He lay back and closed his eyes and reached out to the Force. He needed to contact Obi-Wan.

However, as the Jedi master tried to draw on the Force, it was as if there was nothing there to touch. That familiar feeling of warmth, comfort, and centering wasn't there. Qui-Gon was more than bewildered by this. _Maybe it's this drug that's interfering with me_ he told himself. Relaxing another time, he stretched out once more and tried to find the Force. Yet again, it was as if it didn't exist. Qui-Gon sat up on the bed and looked around the room. He spied a cup on the table and reached his hand out, calling the cup to him with his mind. It didn't even budge. Now the Jedi was beginning to feel unsettled. The awful truth was beginning to dawn on him. This wasn't a simple temporary inability to contact the Force because of the sedative they had used on him. He had lost his ability to channel the Force! But how! How could such a thing happen?

_Wait, don't panic yet. Don't lose control now when you need it most._ The fact that he was having difficulty maintaining emotional restraint didn't escape his notice either. _Maybe it's not so drastic. Could the Hustans have found a way to block contact with the Force? _Maybe that was it. Maybe it was something about this room itself that was the blocker. Maybe that's why they put him here. Either way, Qui-Gon knew he was going to have to find a way out of here. But without the Force, or his apprentice's help, or his light saber—how?

Obi-Wan paced the room like a caged tiger. Questioning the guards was taking too much time for his liking. However, he knew this would be the best source of information—but he didn't trust Kelal to be honest with him about what the guards reported. So he remained for the interrogation and continued his circuit as each guard was brought in and quizzed by the administrator. As the most recent inquisition was completed, Obi-Wan turned to Kelal.

"How many more guards are there? I need to locate Qui-Gon soon. I have to get him back to Coruscant."

Waving his hand at the young apprentice, Kelal said languidly, "I understand your hurry, but we do want to be thorough, don't we?"

Obi-Wan had the distinct feeling that the governor was deliberately trying to stall. Everything that he could sense about Kelal gave him more reason to be distrusting of the man. If it were true that the official was attempting to delay this process, then how could the padawan even believe that the guards who were being questioned were the ones actually on duty? He didn't even know how many guards were on duty on each watch. Obi-Wan was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. He headed towards the door.

"Wait, Jedi!" Kelal called. "Where are you going? We aren't finished yet."

"I am," Obi-Wan called over his shoulder without looking back.

A noise drew Qui-Gon's attention to the door. A small panel at the bottom of the door opened and a tray slid through. As he bent down to lift the tray, the Jedi was surprised by the stiffness that had set into his joints. He carried it to the table in the center of the room and lifted the lid slowly, expecting mean fare since he was obviously a prisoner. Unexpectedly, however, the food looked quite appealing and the aroma made his mouth water. He took a small exploratory bite and was pleasantly surprised with the savory meat. What with all that had happened, Qui-Gon had not realized how hungry he was. Although he had become more and more aware of his continuously ebbing strength and the feverishness that was beginning to assault him. The food soon took care of his hunger, but did little to restore his energy. Putting that out of his mind, Qui-Gon now took a new look around the room. A look intended to find a weakness.

The window was an obvious one. The metal bars presented a problem, of course. However, being a practical man, Qui-Gon resolved to take this one step at a time. First he would worry about the easier part—the glass. He scanned the area to see what was available to break the glass. He had no idea if there was a guard outside the door. The breaking glass would alert him to Qui-Gon's activity. The Jedi turned toward the door, which caused him to stumble. He was trying hard to convince himself that there was nothing seriously wrong and blamed his fatigue and clumsiness on all that had happened—the trip, the drug—and anything else he could think to blame. Once at the door, he tried to see if there were any cracks he could look through. The planking of the heavy door was tight. Also, the door fit snug in the frame. The panel at the bottom of the door! He got down on all fours to have a look. He pushed on it with all his might. _Hmm…it must latch on the outside…which is logical_ he told himself. However, there was about an inch separating the door from the floor. Pressing his face to the floor to try to see into the hallway revealed very little. There was a light near the door, so he stayed where he was for several minutes to see if any shadows cut through the light. Nothing. _They must be feel secure enough that there's no way out to bother posting a guard. Good…one less worry_.

Even getting back to his feet gradually was not enough to hold off the wave of dizziness that swept over Qui-Gon. He leaned against the door and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to drive off the light-headed haze that threatened to take him down. Having regained himself somewhat, the Jedi picked up one of the odd metal objects that had been laying on the table. He crossed to the window and reaching between the bars, struck the pane several times. Nothing happened. Not even a crack. _Must be some sort of shatterproof glass. _Qui-Gon began putting more force in his blows. He was rewarded for his effort only with short breaths and a racing heart. The window had not given any. And in his weakened condition the effort only served to sap his already waning strength.

Qui-Gon collapsed into the chair next to the window to catch his breath. He had to face the fact that he had been trying to deny. He was sick—to what degree he had no idea. Whatever Kiel had found in his blood must be the cause of what he was feeling now. Another thing to hinder his escape attempt. The exertion had taxed him more than he could believe. He was weak and shaking. If such a small effort had caused that much problem—whatever was wrong with him must be serious—he finally had to admit it. Qui-Gon very carefully rose from the chair. Walking to the cot with faltering steps, he slumped onto the bed and almost immediately fell into a fevered sleep.

Obi-Wan really had no idea where to start looking for Master Qui-Gon. But he had to do _something_. He could no longer just stand by and let others control his actions. It was getting dark outside. Obi-Wan didn't know his way around the city—and was sure he would get no help in that regard from the governor. He decided to go back to the room Qui-Gon had been occupying, to see if there was anything that would give him a clue as to what had happened to his mentor.

Having carefully inspected the room, some areas twice, Obi-Wan had to resign himself that there was nothing here to help him in his quest. After he exited to the hallway, he stopped and looked up and down the corridor. Since there was little he could do in the city during the night, the padawan decided to explore the house. He doubted he would be able to get any sleep if he returned to his room anyway. Obi-Wan turned to the left, away from the governor's quarters, and started trying doorknobs. The first door opened readily and the apprentice looked through another bedroom. He really wasn't sure what he was looking for, but kept looking anyway. He paused and tried once more to find Qui-Gon's presence in the Force. Just like all the other times he had tried—nothing. This greatly bewildered him, for even if Qui-Gon were dead, his soul should still be in the Force. To find nothing at all—Obi-Wan was at a loss to explain that.

He continued his search. Each door was unlocked and each room was similar. And each room held no clues for the apprentice. Coming near the end of the hallway, Obi-Wan was about ready to give up and try something else when he heard something. He froze and listened. From the room at the very end of the hall came voices—low and muffled behind the door. Slowly padding to the door, Obi-Wan put his ear close and listened. The voice was familiar to him. It was the man who had been in the governor's office earlier when Obi-Wan had burst in on him. Horan he had called him. The apprentice didn't know who he was, but he was certain that was the voice he now heard.

"This is getting out of hand. We are going to have to make a move soon, General."

"I agree. I've been in favor of a more aggressive stand from the beginning. It's that sniveling excuse for a governor that is standing in our way."

"Yes. Since he is governor we need his authorization to proceed, but he doesn't have the backbone to do it."

"He is losing even what little courage he has with these Jedi here."

"That won't continue to be a problem for long. We have the elder one out of commission—and we didn't even have to do anything to him. He delivered himself into our hands."

"Yes, but what about the young one? He's still quite healthy, quite present…and quite curious about his friend."

"Don't worry, General. Ha ha! You didn't see the little display he put on for Kelal and me when he first realized his master was gone. He gave a performance to bring the house down." The voice dripped with sarcasm. "His feelings in the matter—or rather, his lack of control of his feelings—will be his undoing."

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and anger. The shame was over his inability to contain his emotions. He was inadvertently helping these people because of that weakness.

"What do you propose to do, Horan?"

"Tomorrow we terminate the Jedi. Where we have him stashed away, it will be simple to convince the youngster that thieves or some such low life killed him. I imagine in his grief and shock it will be an easy matter to send him away with the body to give his dear master a proper funeral such as he deserves," Horan said with mock dramatics.

"Do you _really_ think it will be so easy?"

"As I told you, General, you didn't see the depth of his ire earlier. Emotions so easily blind one. Besides, to him, he will be merely leaving a negotiation table to see after his friend. He has no idea that we are planning to invade the Yanadas."

A thrill of shock ran through Obi-Wan at those words. Master Yoda had been right about how tense the situation here was. The apprentice told himself that he couldn't sit back and allow this invasion to take place. But he also had to find Qui-Gon. How would he do that? The general's words echoed in his brain, "sniveling excuse for a governor." Also, the padawan remembered how easily intimidated Kelal had been earlier. That was the key. He had to catch the governor alone. He was certain he could get the information from him. Obi-Wan turned to go back to his room. He knew there would be no sleep tonight but there was little he could do this late—except think and plan.

Very dim sunlight streamed through the dingy window. Qui-Gon barely opened his eyes. The sleep had not helped at all. Whatever was wrong with him had worsened significantly through the night. He wondered how bad it was going to get. _Whatever it is, that must be what is affecting my ability with the Force_ he thought. But never before when he'd been ill had he had that problem. But he had never been this sick before either. It was too much of a coincidence.

The panel at the bottom of the door opened and a food tray appeared, just as last night. It took him a minute or two to get to his feet. He was so weak that he had trouble getting his shaking knees to support his weight. Bending to pick up the tray seemed like too much of an effort to the Jedi, so he leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor where he broke his fast.

Just as he expected, Obi-Wan had slept none through the night. When the sun began creeping through his window, the apprentice gradually opened the door and scanned the hallway. Good, no guards in sight. He slowly crept down the corridor toward the governor's quarters. Peeking around a corner he saw four guards posted at one of the doors. _With that many guards, that has to be the governor's bedroom_ he thought. So he settled down to watch and wait for Kelal to show himself as he thought through different scenarios of trying to get the governor alone.

The padawan's patience was soon rewarded. After just a few minutes of waiting, Kelal exited his bedroom and hailed the soldiers who had been his sentries through the night. The captain of the guard snapped to and smartly saluted his leader.

"The perimeter guard has changed sir and all is well."

"Excellent, thank you, Captain. I will be going for my walk in the garden now."

Obi-Wan withdrew his peeping eyes from the corner he had staked out. _A walk in the garden,_ he thought. That might prove the perfect opportunity to talk to Kelal without anyone else around to hear or interfere. All he had to do was find this garden. He glanced back around the corner just in time to see the governor disappear through a set of glass double doors. Obi-Wan turned and started in the opposite direction down his section of the hallway. What would he do about the guards? _Let me just find the garden first and see how it's laid out._ Then he could better plan his strategy.

Obi-Wan's investigation of the hallway turned up another exit. He peered out the glass doors and saw no one, so he cautiously opened one of the doors and slipped through. Looking around the garden revealed a bountiful and well-manicured assortment of local vegetation and a rainbow of colors that Obi-Wan had never seen before. But that wasn't his objective here. There was a stone paved walkway that led from each exit to the garden and disappeared into its lush undergrowth. _Perfect_ the padawan breathed a sign of relief. Maybe this was going to be simpler than he thought. With Kelal in that mass he would easily be out of sight of the house. All he would have to do would be take care of his accompanying guards.

Kelal must have already started down the path because Obi-Wan's sharp eyes could find no sight of him. He looked around for any other guards and spying none he quietly dashed the short distance to the garden. Once under cover of the vegetation, the apprentice began running in earnest to reach the back side of the garden tract before the governor and his watch arrived there.

As he ran he tried to decide how to handle the soldiers. He had no right to, and didn't want to, kill them. He needed to disarm them, but he also needed to incapacitate them so that they would not interfere with his interrogation of Kelal. He tried to decide how many would likely be with him. No less than two—since one guard is a single point failure; and no more than four—because that's how many were guarding his bedroom. Assumptions, yes—but he was following his instincts.

Judging that he had arrived at the point furthest from the mansion, Obi-Wan looked and listened for any sign of the administrator. There! He heard a crunching noise, as of someone stepping on gravel. He carefully stepped back into the bushes and overhanging tree limbs, trying not to make any noise himself. Hardly daring to breathe, he waited for the governor to come around the curve that he was staring at. About a minute later, there was the telltale sign of Kelal's trademark royal blue jacket beginning to come into view about 100 yards from the apprentice's hiding place in the miniature jungle.

_Wait! Wait!_ Obi-Wan admonished himself. _Don't rush this. You only have one chance._ Kelal came fully into view, slowly striding the path and stopping now and again to look at a bud or a leaf. The padawan had ceased to watch him, however, and was staring at the path behind him, waiting for the guards to come into view. But when Kelal had come even with Obi-Wan there was still no sign of a soldier. The governor continued past—and still no sentry. Obi-Wan was confused. Why would they let him get so far ahead out of their sight? Unless…no, it was too much to hope for. Unless he was walking unaccompanied. He remembered the high stone walls and the guards outside those walls. They must feel secure enough with those precautions to allow Kelal to walk alone on the grounds. Obi-Wan could hardly believe his luck! This was going to be too easy. _Caution, Padawan,_ he could imagine Qui-Gon saying to him. _Over confidence can be a dangerous enemy._

Obi-Wan stealthily exited his green shelter. He crept up behind Kelal and tapped him on the shoulder. The governor leapt a full foot into the air and let out a yelp. He whirled around to face the padawan.

"Jedi," he huffed. "That is neither amusing or smart. If I had hit my panic button," he indicated a small box with a single button, which he carried in his palm, "two platoons of soldiers would be here instantly. And," he added as he preened and tried to calm himself, "they would be ready to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't hit that button then," Obi-Wan said bluntly as he took the box from the governor.

"Here, what are you doing?" Kelal was frantically trying to retrieve his only link to help. "I grow tired of your games."

"And I yours," Obi-Wan snarled at Kelal. "It's time for you to answer some questions, Governor."

"I don't know what games you refer to," Kelal turned his back to the apprentice and began to take a step as he continued, "I'm not used to being ordered around—especially by outworlders."

The padawan gripped his shoulder and spun him around.

"Well, I guess you are going to have to change your expectations." Obi-Wan leaned down into the governor's face. Yes, he could see the fear in the bright green eyes. A smile broke across Obi-Wan's face. "Now that we understand each other maybe you'll be a little more cooperative."

Kelal tried to gather his courage. He couldn't afford to show outward fear right now. He couldn't let this Jedi know he was getting to him. The administrator drew himself up and averted his face from those gleaming blue eyes that seemed to be able to see his soul.

"I warn you, there will be serious consequences for your behavior and your threats."

"The Republic has serious consequences for endangering its emissaries—and for plotting invasions when a truce is in effect.

Obi-Wan could feel, through the grip he maintained on Kelal's shoulder, the response to his last statement. He had decided before that the governor must be aware of those plans—and this confirmed it.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Kelal snapped indignantly as he tried to squirm out of the apprentice's grasp. "How dare you make such accusations?"

"How dare you deny such accusations?" Obi-Wan intensified his grip on Kelal and gave him a strong shake for good measure. Leaning once more into the governor's face, Obi-Wan was livid and made no pretense of hiding it.

"You talk peace while you plan invasion. You kidnap a representative of the Republic. You endanger his life by keeping him from life-saving medical attention. You withhold information and lie to another representative of the Republic." Obi-Wan hadn't realized that he had been backing Kelal up. He now stood with his back against a tree. His green eyes were wide and terror filled. His mouth was agape and his breathing fast and shallow. _Good,_ Obi-Wan thought, _good._

"I've lost count of how many Republic laws you have broken. You are going back to Coruscant to face the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate. But first you _will_ tell me—where is Qui-Gon?"

"I…I…don't know. This is Horan's doing. I was against it!" Kelal was talking as fast as he could. "Horan knows where your friend is. Really…he does."

"I think you know too," Obi-Wan snarled. "You know—and you will tell me." Obi-Wan let all his emotional control go. "You'll tell me or…" He whipped out his light saber and ignited it. Pointing it at the governor's chest, he rasped in a voice no longer his own, "I'll kill you right now."

Kelal never wanted to admit he was a coward, but in that second he knew better than he knew anything else in the world that he was a yellow-bellied, whimpering coward. And he would do anything to stop that weapon from piercing his heart. He was ready to tell the Jedi everything he wanted to know.

He need not have worried about his life ending at the padawan's hands though. That had never been Obi-Wan's intention. He merely wanted to intimidate Kelal into telling him where Qui-Gon was. But now, too late, the apprentice understood all the lessons, all the lectures he had been obliged to undergo at the hands of his instructors. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. Fear of not finding Qui-Gon had led to anger at Kelal; anger had led to hate. That hate had very nearly led to Kelal facing the ultimate suffering. By not quelling it in the beginning Obi-Wan had already let it foment yesterday when he had confronted Kelal in his office. The apprentice naively thought that he could allow the anger to build to help him pressure the governor but that he would still be able to control it. That false sense of security had led him to try the same ploy again. But just as an addiction worsens by degrees—it is exacerbated by desensitization—the same thing had happened to Obi-Wan. His success in coming so close yesterday but being able to pull back had made him feel he could completely control his rage. He was wrong. Almost too late he found—he was wrong.

The padawan practically threw himself at the astonished governor's feet. Not daring to look the man in the eyes, Obi-Wan almost sobbed as he spoke. "Your Honor, I…I…apologize. I know that's not sufficient for my actions. I swear to you, I had no intention of harming you. I…I…thought I could…well, intimidate you into telling me what I wanted to know. My actions were never meant to do more than frighten you into cooperating with me." Obi-Wan's head was still bowed. He once again felt the burn of shame on his cheeks. He didn't know what more to say to Kelal in explanation. And he didn't know how to make reparations for what he had done either. Even as he thought of trying to explain that Qui-Gon was like a father to him, after all those years of training and the many tribulations they had shared—the words rang hollow and he doubted the governor would understand. So he said nothing.

Kelal was still trying to recover from what had almost happened—and this end to the whole episode merely served to confuse him further. He didn't know if this could be part of the Jedi's plan to manipulate him—or was he truly sorry? The governor had no idea.

Obi-Wan stood but still couldn't bring himself to look the governor in the eye. "I turn myself over to you to face your justice for my actions. However, Qui-Gon has done nothing. I implore you to allow someone from the Jedi council to come and take him back to Coruscant. He may die without treatment. He can not harm you. He knows nothing of your plans for invasion. I give myself—and my knowledge of the invasion—to you in exchange for Qui-Gon's freedom and possibly his life."

Kelal was still hesitant to trust the Jedi. But that's the way it is with cowards he told himself. They are at the mercy of people they refuse to stand up to and as a result they trust no one. He had given in to Horan and General Ronan and look where it had gotten him. He was their puppet. He had no real control of the government anymore. And he _knew_ they would kill him eventually because of their ambitions. The Jedi could have killed him outright—here where no one would see or know—but he didn't. Was he sincere in what he said? Perhaps he truly only wanted to save his friend and his feelings had gotten in the way. He was just an apprentice, wasn't he? Kelal wondered if he was making a mistake to trust him.

"Jedi, it's true I could have you possibly put to death for threatening me that way." Kelal hesitated as he looked around the garden. He was taking longer than usual and the guards may be on their way to look for him. "However, I fear I have gotten myself into a dangerous position. If I go back to your Senate and tell them what Ronan and Horan are planning, what do you think they would do to me?"

"I'm uncertain, Your Honor. However, I'm sure the Senate would take your cooperation into account—especially if you had someone to testify in your behalf."

Kelal merely stared at Obi-Wan until he saw a little gleam in his eye. "Do you mean…you…you would do that for me. After how I have behaved?"

"I believe that you have been taken advantage of and coerced into things you didn't really believe in. The real lawbreakers, I think, are Horan and the General. If you will help me, then yes, I would do that for you. If you can forgive me that is."

"Forgive you? I thank you. You may have threatened my life—but now you are probably going to save it. I may not be as worldly as those two, but I am wise enough to know that when I outlive my usefulness I will be a liability. For right now, I have to get going before the guards come looking for me. Please come to my office after my morning meeting with Horan and I will tell you everything you want to know."

With that the governor turned and hurried down the walkway. Recovering his light saber, Obi-Wan retreated to a bench and collapsed onto it. He felt dirty and used. But he couldn't claim being a victim—he had allowed this to happen, had encouraged it in himself. How close he had come to crossing the line and losing himself to the dark side. Now that he was alone to concentrate all his attention on that, he became ill at the thought. Perspiration popped out in beads on his forehead and his stomach knotted when he remembered the complete hate that had taken possession of him. Revulsion filled him. Revulsion at the ugly emotions that had overcome him. Revulsion at himself. Was he so thick headed that years of training had been lost on him? Had the dire warnings about the dark side become so familiar to him that he was apathetic toward them? The counsel designed to save him from the easy, yet malevolent way…had it become a by-word to him?

The apprentice felt betrayed—by himself. Then a new thought occurred to him. He had been disloyal to more than himself. He had betrayed the Jedi council. A representative that they had sent in trustworthiness had almost given in to rage and came close to harming the very official who had received him in confidence. And…he had betrayed Qui-Gon, the one who had chosen him as padawan and had devoted years to his training. He had sold out everything and everyone he believed in.

That realization was like a blow to the stomach. Indeed, he felt his breath stolen from him. What did he believe in? He wasn't sure anymore. Obi-Wan wasn't sure he could trust himself anymore either. He thought he knew what he was doing and look where it got him. What would he say to Qui-Gon? Qui-Gon!

Obi-Wan leaped up suddenly. There was time enough to feel sorry for himself later. Right now he still had to get to Qui-Gon. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there thinking. The apprentice had to find out if Kelal's meeting with Horan was finished. He ran back through the green maze to the governor's house.

Obi-Wan had no idea if the governor's aide was in with Kelal and wasn't sure how to find out. So he decided to casually stroll down the hallway near the governor's office to see if he could learn anything. Either coincidence was on his side or Kelal was a good guesser. As the padawan neared the office, the door opened and the administrator stuck his head out, searching the hallway.

"Jedi, I wish to talk with you," Kelal said ambiguously, for the benefit of the guards at his door. Obi-Wan followed the governor into the stately office. Kelal turned on an orchestral recording and motioned for Obi-Wan to sit in a chair next to his.

"I don't know if they have gotten around to monitoring what goes on in here or not, but I'd rather not take chances." Kelal sat and stared at Obi-Wan for a moment. "Frankly, I don't know whether to trust you or not. However, the time has come for me to trust someone. I think I'd rather trust you than Horan. You were right, I do know where your friend is. The report I heard this morning is that he is very ill. He ate his morning meal and has not been out of bed since. I will tell you where he is—but where does that leave me? Horan will know who told you because there are only 3 of us who know where he is—Ronan, Horan and myself."

"Governor, I think you are going to have to come with me. If they discover that you have revealed anything of their schemes, they may kill you."

The official frowned and looked away. "Stay here and face almost certain death, or go with you and face uncertain fate. Not much of a choice. What do we do now?"

Obi-Wan stood to pace while he thought. He was worried at the report of Qui-Gon's condition. He wanted to act _now!_ He had no idea how much longer his master could wait.

"We need transportation to go get Qui-Gon and then get to our ship. Can you leave the house without attracting attention?"

"Well, I don't know. I've never tried. My driver is a trusted ally. I could probably get him to drive us out of here and then hand the vehicle over to me. We could go get your friend. We'll need something other than the official car. How are you going to get your transport off the planet without anyone finding out?"

"Well…the part that bothers me the most is getting your vehicle onto the landing pad and to our transport. That will probably draw a lot of attention. Once we get in the ship, I'm just going to take off without any preamble."

"That will attract attention too," Kelal pointed out.

"True, but once I'm off the planet surface, I believe my chances of escape increase greatly. As long as I'm away from my ship, there are too many things to keep me from getting back to it. We need to get going—now."

Kelal stood and drew in a deep breath. "OK. For the first time in my career I'm going to have to quit being a coward. I may need your encouragement, I'll warn you. But I don't see that I have a choice." The governor walked Obi-Wan to the door. "Turn left and go to the end of the hallway. There is a stairway that leads to the basement garage. As soon as I can make an excuse to get away, I'll be right there."

The padawan nodded and exited the office. He tried to make himself walk at a normal pace to the stairs—but everything in him screamed _hurry!_ Once inside the stairwell, however, he raced down the two flights of stairs. The garage had an assortment of vehicles at the opposite end and seemed abandoned. Obi-Wan quietly padded toward the vehicles, looking around for any guards. As he was almost to the cars, a young Hustan exited an office set in the back wall. The apprentice leaped to cover behind the governor's official car. He readied himself to grab the man as he passed by when suddenly, the stairway door flew open and Kelal came running through.

"Churus, are you prepared?" Kelal called to the young man. Then looking around he said, "Where's that Jedi?"

"Who, sir?" the driver questioned.

"Here I am," Obi-Wan stood. Churus jumped and whipped out a blaster pistol.

"No, no, Churus! He's a friend!"

"Why is he hiding and sneaking around?"

"Because I didn't know you were the governor's driver," Obi-Wan explained. "Come on, we've got to get going."

"What's going on, sir?" Churus queried.

"No time to explain. I just need you to do what I tell you."

The three got into a dark colored vehicle and Churus started the engine.

"I think it would be better if you ducked down," Kelal told Obi-Wan. "If Horan starts looking for you, no one will have seen you leave the house."

The Jedi didn't have to think twice about it. He lowered himself to the floor of the vehicle and curled up.

The driver pulled up to the gate and the guard on duty smartly saluted the governor and opened the gate immediately—no questions asked.

The dark vehicle had crossed the capital city and entered a district that had seen its better days long ago. The buildings were worn and run down. Now Obi-Wan knew what Horan meant when he said with the location that Qui-Gon was being held in, it would be easy to blame his death on thieves or some "other low life" as he had put it. A circuitous route eventually brought the group to an alleyway behind a large abandoned building—maybe a warehouse. Kelal led the way to the door while searching for the right key on a large key ring. After about a minute of fumbling with the rusty lock, the bolt finally released and Kelal shoved hard on the door. He motioned for Obi-Wan to stay back out of sight. Inside there were four guards with blaster rifles trained on the door. As soon as they recognized their governor, the soldiers quickly lowered their rifles and snapped to attention.

"Good work, men. I had heard that the Jedi was sick, so I just came by to see what was going on. I'll go look in on him. You can return to your posts. I don't think I'll be needing you if he is as ill as you reported. I'll let you know before I leave." Kelal made a big show of putting his keys away and straightening his jacket as he waited for the soldiers to clear the hallway. He eased the door open, wincing at each creak it made.

"Come on. Hurry," he said to Obi-Wan. To Churus he said, "You stay here and don't let any guards come down to the cell."

"Yes sir," the driver answered crisply.

Kelal trotted down the hallway, the padawan on his heels. He stopped at a large wooden door and began the key search again. This lock gave easier than the outer door lock and they were inside right away. Obi-Wan ran to the bed. He gasped at the sight that greeted him.

Qui-Gon was unconscious and his face was whiter than the dingy sheets he lay on. Perspiration was running down the sides of his face and into his soaked hair. His breathing was ragged and shallow. Obi-Wan laid his hand on Qui-Gon's pale forehead. He was on fire with fever. A quick check of his pulse made the apprentice gulp at the rate that his master's heart was beating. Panic almost washed over him but he reacted quickly to keep it in check. He would need his wits about him if he was going to pull off this escape.

"Governor, I need you to help me get him to your vehicle." Obi-Wan pulled his master into a sitting position and put one arm over his shoulder. Kelal put the other arm over his own shoulder and the two struggled to get the ailing Jedi master on his feet. They struggled with the dead weight of the tall man, mostly dragging Qui-Gon between them. As they came into Churus' sight, he rushed to help them with their burden.

"Where are the guards?" Kelal puffed.

"I don't know, sir. I haven't seen them since they left."

"Come on, we've got to hurry before they decide to check on us."

The three men muscled the inanimate body out the door and were struggling to get him in the car when they heard talking. Kelal's face paled.

"They're coming." He hesitated but then realized he had to do something. "You two, get him in the car. I'll be right back."

Kelal hurried back into the building and walked toward the guards before they could get close enough to see out the door.

"Governor, sir," one of the guards looked doubtful. "I thought you were going to let us know when you left. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing's going on. I was just checking some details with my driver. I wasn't leaving yet." Then a picture formed in Kelal's mind—the cell door that they had left standing wide open! He couldn't leave it that way. The empty cell would be discovered too soon and decrease their escape time. "I just have one more question to ask the Jedi and then I will be finished with him." Kelal turned back toward the direction of the cell.

The guard wasn't satisfied though. His suspicions had been aroused and weren't so easily put to rest. "Do you mind if I ask why you came here unannounced, sir?"

"Oh," Kelal tried to think quickly. " When I found out that Horan had decided to terminate the Jedi today, I just thought I would see if there was any useful information he could give us—about the Yanadas maybe."

"Hmmm." That sounded reasonable. "All right. But I do have my orders, sir. You should notify me if you leave the building again. After all we are holding a prisoner."

"Of course, of course." It was bad enough to be treated like a fool by Horan and the general, but when ordinary soldiers started treating him that way…_well,_ _I guess those are the fruits of cowardice also._ That just made Kelal more determined to go through with this. He had to prove, at least to himself, that he wasn't a coward.

The soldiers watched as the administrator disappeared down the hallway. Kelal hurried back to the cell. He had to do something about that bed. The soldiers had no interaction with Qui-Gon. They had been merely looking in at him now and again. So he had to make it look as though there was still someone in the bed. He looked around to find something to stuff under the thin blanket.

"Where is he," Obi-Wan wondered out loud. They had managed to get Qui-Gon into the back seat of the car and were nervously waiting for Kelal to come back. "It shouldn't be taking this long. I'm going to see where he is."

"No!" Churus ordered. "Give him another minute. Then I'll go look for him."

In the meantime, Kelal was finishing up stuffing the blanket around some rags, straw and the Force help him—the stool. But he had little choice. There wasn't much available in that bare room. Thankfully it was a small stool—something to hold the covers up and look, hopefully, like a body. Just as he was making his last tuck he heard a noise behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Kelal's heart skipped a couple of beats and he felt his knees turn to jelly. He was trying to think of a reasonable explanation as he turned to see—Churus!

"Churus! You almost scared the life out of me—literally! What are you doing here?"

"You were taking so long, I feared the worst."

"I was trying to make it look like someone was still in the cot. Come on, we have to get out of here. This is taking too much time. The guards are going to start getting suspicious. Wait, first I have to regain my wits or they'll know something is wrong."

Kelal took a minute to straighten his jacket and make sure his hair wasn't a mess. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

"OK. You go on out to the car. I'll let the guards know we are leaving, then we can get out of here!"

Churus hurried to the car to let the waiting Jedi know all was well. Kelal continued taking deep regular breaths as he walked to the guard's room. Now he knew why he had always been weak—it was easier than being brave. _If I make it out of this alive…I just hope I can remember how humiliating it is to be a coward._

The governor poked his head into the room where the guards were doing some paperwork. "I'm leaving now. He's out cold." He hoped that would assure them and keep them from checking the cell too closely anytime soon. "The order from Horan should come shortly. Good work, men."

Kelal hurried from the room anxiously hoping that no one would call him back or follow him out. To his great relief, he heard no steps following him. He took a furtive glance back to make sure and seeing no one, he began a dead run to the vehicle.

Obi-Wan began to breathe easier when he saw Kelal coming out the door. The governor jumped into the passenger front seat and croaked, "Let's get out of here! Now!"

Churus already had the engine running. He pulled out into the alleyway and soon the building was a memory.

The vehicle had made the trip back across town when Kelal told Churus to pull off the main street and stop.

"Churus, you've been loyal and always served me well. I will miss you."

Churus' brow wrinkled. "What are you talking about, sir?"

"It's time for you to get clear of this. Things are about to get ugly for me unless I leave." Looking about wistfully, Kelal said, "It's a sad thing for a man to be driven not just from his home—but from his planet as well. I suppose it's my own fault though." Looking Churus in the eye he continued, "You've still got a chance. I don't want to drag you down with me. Please get out of the vehicle…and don't go back to the mansion. It's dirty there. Find yourself an honest job. Any job is a noble one if it is honest—no matter how humble it may seem to other people. Always stand up for what you know is right and flee from those who try to convince you that wrong is right." Kelal's eyes grew sad as he said this. If he could help another from falling into the same pit he had, then maybe he might find some worth in his life.

Churus, however, simply stared in confusion at his boss and ruler. He stumbled over what to say—so many thoughts swirled in his head. "But what…"

"No, no. It's best if you know nothing. Don't ask any questions. Just please leave us to the path we have to follow."

"Please hurry," Obi-Wan urged both men. "We don't know how much time we have."

Churus opened the door and got out. Kelal slid into the driver's seat. He reached out and shook Churus' hand and then slammed the door and sped away, leaving a very confused man on the side of the road.

As the vehicle sped along the streets, Obi-Wan kept watch over his master. The padawan's anxiety grew as he watched Qui-Gon struggle to breathe. He cursed the fact that he had nothing to relieve his suffering even a little—no cool cloth to bathe his fevered brow, no water to wet his dry chaffed lips. _It can't be too late! It can't be!_ He refused to face the possibility that his teacher and friend might succumb to this virus.

Obi-Wan was shaken from his perch and his reverie as Kelal turned from the road and drove through the gate at the spaceport. He craned his neck as he drove, looking about to locate the small transport that the two Jedi had arrived in.

"What are you going to do?" Obi-Wan inquired. "Do you think it's wise to just drive onto the landing area without contacting anyone first?"

"I know it will cause a stir—but as you said, the closer you are to your ship, the better your chances of escape. If I am recognized, they will check with Horan to see if I have travel plans. We may not even make it to the transport. This is the best way."

Kelal drove onto the paved landing area and headed toward the end where the Jedi transport sat at the ready. As soon as the unauthorized vehicle was spotted, the spaceport authorities notified security. Because of a phenomenon known as reaction time, it took a couple of minutes for the vehicle to be spotted, reported, and for the security Forces to react to the message and send a vehicle in response. That gave Kelal time to reach the ship before the security Force had even started their engine.

Kelal and Obi-Wan were laboring to move Qui-Gon to the ship, a burden made the more difficult by the ramp they now had to ascend with their comatose charge. Carrying him was enough of a chore without doing it quickly. The security Force arrived before they had gotten far and the men jumped from the vehicle, blaster pistols drawn and orders being shouted.

"Halt! What are you doing here? You have no permission!" one of the soldiers yelled.

Kelal tried to sound as authoritative as he could, even though he knew the armed forces of his country were more loyal to General Ronan than to him. "I think I have my own authority, Sergeant," he responded coolly.

The sergeant immediately lowered his gun, but, noticeably, did not call for his men to lower theirs. "My apologies, Governor. I had no idea. Certainly you know, sir, that private vehicles are not allowed here."

"Of course, I know it," Kelal spat, growing impatient. "This is urgent. Can't you see how sick this man is? The Jedi need to leave immediately to get him to proper medical treatment."

"But we received no notification…"

Kelal was tiring of trying to hold up the unconscious Jedi—and of this conversation. "Sergeant, have your men help get him on the transport and while they are doing that, we can contact General Ronan, if that will make you feel better." Obi-Wan gave Kelal a sharp glance but Kelal ignored it and continued to stare at the uncomfortable sergeant.

"Well…I…uh," the embarrassed sergeant just realized that the governor's suggestion to contact a lower official had revealed that the sergeant had loyalties to one other than his ruler. In order to try to get himself out of the awkward situation, the head of the security detail suddenly became very cooperative. "You there, he indicated two of his men. Give a hand." The two soldiers hurried up to help Obi-Wan get Qui-Gon into the transport.

"Well?" the governor said. "Shall we make the call?"

"Well…I…ah…I'll let the lieutenant know what's going on." The unnerved soldier opened his communication device and called his superior—to let him deal with this. Meanwhile, Kelal kept an eye on the progress of getting Qui-Gon into the ship.

The sergeant reported the incident to the office on duty in the security office—carefully wording his question as to whether a call should be made to the person who was _really_ in charge. It was easier for the lieutenant to make the decision since he was not under the intense glare from the governor.

"Sergeant, _all_ security violations are to be reported to General Ronan. Stand by while I contact him."

Kelal's hands were wet with perspiration. Without notice of his actions, he rubbed them down his tunic front to dry them, his whole attention on the transport ramp. As soon as he saw the two soldiers returning down the ramp, he broke and charged up the ramp. Kelal almost bowled Obi-Wan over as he stood from settling Qui-Gon into the back of the cockpit area.

"They are calling General Ronan!" he reported, his eyes wide with dread. "What are we going to do?"

Without hesitation, Obi-Wan ran to the command chair and threw the switches to raise the ramp and shut the outer door. He strapped himself in as he yelled over his shoulder, "We're getting out of here!"

Kelal was right behind the apprentice and leaped into the co-pilot chair, strapping himself in. Obi-Wan activated the comm link on the instrument panel and switched it to PA mode. "We are about to start our engines. Please move away from the ship for your safety." The padawan looked out the forward windscreen to see if the soldiers were complying with his demand. They were pounding on the outer hull of the transport and yelling. Obi-Wan couldn't wait any longer; they were quickly running out of time. He hit the buttons to ignite the twin engines of the transport, hoping the hum of engine start would warn the soldiers off. If not—well, he couldn't be responsible for the choices they made. He had warned them.

Obi-Wan watched the instrument panel as the engines came up to full speed then he pushed the throttle forward and the transport began to lift. The apprentice pegged the throttle and pointed the ship nose up as the transport began an almost vertical climb, screeching from the sudden stress on the structure. Pressed hard into his seat by the strong g-Forces, Obi-Wan had to struggle to maintain his grip on the controls. Kelal was relieved, petrified and sick all at once. He just hung on and tried not to let his sickness overflow.

Scanning the instruments, Obi-Wan grumbled a low curse.

"What is it?" Kelal managed to blurt out.

"Three ships on the scanners. They've sent someone after us."

"I should never have started this madness. I should have just stayed in my office and kept my mouth shut. Or I should have just let you kill me. I die either way."

Obi-Wan didn't have the time or the patience for this. Without taking his eyes from what he was doing he snarled, "I thought you were tired of being scared of people."

The ship suddenly rocked violently as a rumble echoed through the hull. Kelal yelped, "We're hit!"

"Quiet man!" Obi-Wan growled at the trembling governor. "We're OK as long as the shields hold out."

"But what if they don't!" he almost sobbed.

"I don't suppose you've ever flown a ship before?" Obi-Wan knew it was unlikely, but this was a two-man ship. He couldn't fly, watch all the instruments, and prepare for the jump to hyperspace all by himself.

"No, never," Kelal's face was ashen as he slumped down in his chair, getting sicker by the moment.

Just then another blaster shot overtook them and rattled the small transport again. Kelal yelled out. "Please, take me back! I'll apologize to Horan. I'll…I'll beg him. He'll listen to me. I don't want to die."

"That's just what you'll do if you go back now." Obi-Wan was trying to think of a way to gain an advantage over the three ships. Another shot! An alarm sounded on the panel.

"What's that!" Kelal was almost hysterical by now.

"The rear shield has failed."

"Oh no!" he moaned. "We're dead now!"

"No, not yet," the Jedi murmured through clenched teeth. He steered hard right and turned until he was facing his pursuers. He pushed the throttle forward and speeded toward them.

"What are you doing!" Kelal screamed. "You're out of your mind."

Obi-Wan didn't need that distraction. He reached over and delivered a hard backhand to the governor's face and immediately turned his attention back to his attack. The apprentice started spraying blaster shots across the paths of the oncoming ships—not relenting, not slowing. Back and forth across the united front they presented, he scattered shots randomly at the trio as he sped to meet them. The maneuver did serve to cause a little confusion—just because of the suddenness of it—and the illogic of it. Obi-Wan took advantage of their momentary lapse in attack to turn to the computer. He punched a few buttons and watched the readout. He turned back to the windscreen just in time to dodge a blaster shot. Again he began his relentless firing at the ships as the distance closed. Closer and closer.

"The trick is knowing when to duck," Obi-Wan mumbled. He held his course as the ships continued coming straight at him and continued firing. Just when the padawan could almost see the pilot's faces, he pulled back on the steering lever and went up and over the three ships. As soon as he cleared them, he leveled the ship out and hit a red button on his instrument panel.

As they turned, all the Hustan pilots could see was the after image of a transport entering hyperspace.

The biggest advantage of traveling at light speed was being able to cover immense distances in very short periods of time. For that alone Obi-Wan was deeply and truly grateful right now. He had taken a couple of glances back at Qui-Gon, lying at the rear of the tiny cockpit. It was hard for him to tell if he was any worse. But he knew for certain, he wasn't better.

As soon as the transport came out of hyperspace in the vicinity of Coruscant, the apprentice had called ahead to let the Jedi council know that medical assistance was needed immediately. Once assured that the healers would be at the docking bay to meet the transport, Obi-Wan relaxed just a bit and knew he had to move on to other business. He informed the council of the Hustans' plan to invade the Yanadas and informed them of his "guest". The chamber was quite surprised at this development and ended the communication so that they could warn the Yanadas of the plan.

Obi-Wan received emergency priority to land at the docking bay. Just to the side of the platform, he could see the two healers with a gurney. As soon as the pads of the ship had touched the ground, Obi-Wan hit the buttons to open the door and lower the ramp and rushed back to where Qui-Gon lay. Instantly the healers were at his side.

"The virus has made great inroads into his system," Mi'al said as he did a cursory check of the languishing Jedi.

Obi-Wan grabbed his shoulder, "Have you found a cure for it?" He held his breath as he waited for the answer.

Mi'al did not look away from his work and merely nodded his head as he and Kiel lifted the comatose form onto the gurney. Obi-Wan almost collapsed in relief at that simple gesture. He followed the healers down the ramp and to their waiting vehicle.

"Wait, Jedi! What about me?" Kelal called after him.

"I'm sorry, Governor. I hate to say it, but I forgot about you. Come with us. We are going to the Jedi temple. The council will listen to you and present you to the Senate." Obi-Wan suddenly remembered something forgotten in the heat of battle. "Governor, I apologize for striking you. It…it was inappropriate and I'm very sorry. When I meet with the Jedi council on your behalf, I'll inform them of it."

Kelal looked somber. "You are not the one to apologize. I was interfering by distracting you. I was reverting to my old cowardly self. I warned you before that I would need encouragement. I don't hold it against you. The shock of it helped me get hold of myself a little. Let's leave it unsaid. An act carried out in a fit of passion."

Obi-Wan paced back and forth before the nondescript entry to the healer's hospital rooms. He had made short work of escorting Kelal to the Jedi council to relate his story of manipulation and deceit in the government of his country. Immediately taking his leave of the chamber, the apprentice rushed down and began his vigil, waiting for word on Master Qui-Gon. The more he watched the chronometer, the slower it seemed to increment. He actually had not been waiting for very long—but it seemed interminable to him.

Just when Obi-Wan felt he could wait no longer, Mi'al entered the waiting area. His face was grave but unreadable. When he hesitated to speak, the padawan blurted out.

"Well, what have you done for him? Is he going to be all right?"

"It is as I had feared. The virus has done its job quite effectively. As you can tell for yourself, Qui-Gon is very ill."

"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan interrupted impatiently. "But you said you had a cure for it."

"True enough. We have found a vaccine which will exterminate the virus…" The open-ended sentence begged the question.

"But?"

"The virus is quite robust, that is why we had such a problem finding a way to destroy it. We had to resort to something quite powerful to stop it." Mi'al walked to a sofa, sat and motioned for Obi-Wan to join him. He obviously had a lot to say—that gave Obi-Wan a bad feeling.

"We have tried to use the natural methods of the Force to strengthen Qui-Gon's system. However, he is so sick that we have not been able to do much. The illness has weakened him considerably."

Obi-Wan was becoming tired of all the words. He wanted the bottom line. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Mi'al looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. "What I am trying to say is that because of the strength of the cure required to kill the virus, in addition to the weakness of Qui-Gon…the cure may kill him."

The words rang hollow in the apprentice's ears. He couldn't comprehend what he had just been told—or rather his mind refused to. He jumped up from the couch and walked to the far wall. Slowly he turned and rasped out one word, "No."

"I'm sorry Obi-Wan. As I said we tried to strengthen his system before we administered the bolus, but his body has been so infiltrated that it needs time…it can't heal itself any faster. But we can't wait any longer to administer the cure or the virus will just continue to worsen. He is sure to die if we don't give it to him. The outcome upon administering the medicant is uncertain. Only time will tell. We'll just have to wait to let the vaccine and his body do their work."

The padawan slumped against the wall as he turned the words over and over in his head. He was sure Mi'al was doing what he thought was best. Obi-Wan knew that Mi'al was highly respected as a healer. But he was still in a state of denial and couldn't accept what he was being told.

"Can I see him?"

"Of course. However, he has not regained consciousness so he will not know you are there."

"He'll know," Obi-Wan affirmed.

The padawan entered the small white room. Even though the light had been dimmed, the colorless walls reflected the light well, making it seem stark and cold. He crossed over to look at the still figure lying on the bed. Master Qui-Gon still looked as pallid as the walls. Kiel was bathing his face and arms in cool water in an effort to help lower his temperature.

"I'll do that," Obi-Wan reached for the cloth. "Why don't you take a break?"

Kiel bowed his head slightly in thanks. However, the apprentice's action was a totally selfish one. He wanted to be alone with Qui-Gon. He wanted to talk to him and he didn't want anyone else listening.

Qui-Gon lay bare chested under a single white coverlet. Someone had granted him the dignity of cleaning his hair and pulling it back into a single bundle so that it would not further mat from the sweat that was pouring off him. His breathing was still ragged and shallow. His padawan could barely stand to look at him. If it weren't for the perspiration and the slight rise and fall of his chest, Obi-Wan would have though him dead—so wan and motionless was he. Obi-Wan soaked the cloth in the cool water and wrung it out. He gently washed his master's face.

"Master, I know you can hear me. You've got to fight this. I can't believe a simple virus can keep you down—not after all I have seen you do in the years you have trained me. You're strong enough to overcome this. I know you can. I _know_ it." The padawan dipped the cloth back in the water and then began to bathe Qui-Gon's arms and chest. His skin was on fire with fever. Obi-Wan knew that if this didn't lower the body temperature, the healers would soon have to take more aggressive measures to try to cool him. "I know that through the Force that you know I'm here. Listen, Master. I won't leave you. I'll be here."

Qui-Gon looked around him. In every direction all he saw was sun bleached sand, stretching to the horizon—undulating waves of the white grain—like milky waves on an ocean frozen in mid swell. And it was hot, so very hot and humid. Sweat was running down his face and dripping off his body. With the high moisture content of the air, the sweat would not evaporate. His body's natural cooling system was unable to function. The air was so heavy the Jedi could hardly breathe it. Each breath was like inhaling liquid instead of air. As far as the eye could see there was no shadow, no shelter of any kind. Nothing to hold back the burning rays of the brilliant white sun overhead in the sky. Qui-Gon's mouth was so dry that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His lips were cracked and chaffed and he was unable to even work up enough moisture to wet them. He had no idea if there was a village, an oasis, any kind of shelter or help around at all. If there was, he most assuredly had no idea in which direction to go to find it. However, to merely stand here was certain death. Therefore the Jedi touched the Force to see if it could direct him. Surprisingly, there was nothing there for him to contact. That seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't explain why he couldn't use the Force—or why that concept seemed familiar to him. However, he had no time to stand and ponder that; he had to find shelter and water—soon! Qui-Gon began walking.

How long he had been traveling the Jedi master had no idea. He had no chronometer and his giddy head was incapable of making a guess. A couple of hours he thought, but he really couldn't be sure. All he was sure of was his imminent death. He had found no shelter, no water. The sun had beat down on him and the heat was robbing his body of precious fluid by forcing a heavy sweat out of him. He was beginning to acutely feel the effects of the tepidity and the dehydration. He was light headed and dizzy and becoming confused. Qui-Gon wasn't sure that he hadn't been traveling in circles. He wouldn't be able to go on much longer. He had neither the strength nor the desire. He wanted nothing more than to lie down he was so weary.

A sound brought him from his reverie. Looking around Qui-Gon saw nothing. _That's it_ he thought. _Now I'm hallucinating. If I loose my ability to think rationally, that _will_ be the death of me._ There it was again—the sound. He didn't bother to look. In fact, he closed his eyes so he could concentrate on what he was hearing—if it was real. Again. This time he could make out his own name being called out.

"Master Qui-Gon! Master!"

The Jedi opened his eyes and looked. There, far, far away—a figure on the crest of a dune. He had no idea if it was human or not, male or female, young or old. All he could see was something standing there.

"Master Qui-Gon. I know you can hear me."

_Master?_ he thought. _Obi-Wan?_ _Can it be Obi-Wan?_

"Master!" The figure slowly started his way. Qui-Gon began to stumble toward the person. He hadn't the strength to walk that far. He had to. He had to get to him. One step, two steps, he stumbled and everything went black.

After a few minutes Mi'al returned to look in on his patient. He carefully checked Qui-Gon's status and made notes of his findings.

"Well?" Obi-Wan questioned. "Is there any change?"

"Hmm…no. No change. Don't look so downcast. There is one thing good about that—his condition has not worsened. However, the sustained elevated temperature bothers me. Even though it is not increasing, for it to stay so high for an extended time is not good either. We need to get it down. Just simple sponging isn't helping. We'll have to try immersing him in water to lower it."

The padawan found himself once again in the waiting area while the healers worked on his master. One thing that Qui-Gon had chided his student for in the past was his impatience. And it was true Obi-Wan admitted. No amount of effort to center himself worked. He finally gave up because he was unable to concentrate. He desperately wanted to think on anything besides the last glimpse he had of his master, so still and pale. The apprentice began pacing and gave up even trying to focus on the Force.

If only he hadn't had to wait so long to get Qui-Gon back to Coruscant. Obi-Wan tried to remind himself that it was Horan and the General who had carried out the kidnapping—not Kelal. But he knew of it! This brought back unbidden memories of the scene in the garden back on Janorda. Memories of himself pointing a light saber at Kelal and threatening to kill him. Obi-Wan hung his head in shame. He had come dangerously close to giving in to the greatest temptation he had ever faced. The brush with the dark side had shaken him to the very foundation of his being. A new thought occurred to him—maybe that's why he was having trouble seeking out the Force right now. Had his encounter affected him in more ways than one? He didn't know. There was still a lot he had to learn about the living Force. But right now he mostly felt shame. Perhaps, in spite of his midiclorian count and his abilities, he wasn't meant to be a Jedi. Certainly other padawans had struggles too, didn't they? But this was different; it wasn't a simple failure to parry a blow in a sparring session. He had almost fallen into the dark side.

His musings were interrupted by Mi'al's entrance into the room.

"We haven't had any success in lowering his temperature yet. Kiel is getting ice to add the to the tub. Don't feel defeated yet, Obi-Wan. We have only tried 2 steps in a multi-step process. There are still other things to be tried—and his temperature has not increased in a couple of hours now. I think he has reached the pinnacle of his struggle. Now we have to help the healing process."

"Please, Mi'al, may I come back. I'll stay out of the way. I would like to be there to talk to him. I told him I wouldn't leave."

"Well, in his state of consciousness I doubt that he will know you are there—even through the Force. However, you may come back if you wish." Mi'al turned to lead the way.

The two entered a room centered on a large tub elevated above the floor. Kiel was in the process of adding ice to the vessel in which Qui-Gon lay submerged in the cool clear liquid. His head was elevated and supported by a couple of inflated vinyl pillows. Other than that his appearance had changed little since Obi-Wan had last seen him. He was still as pallid as before and still comatose. True to his word, Obi-Wan stepped back to the wall, out of the way and concentrated on trying to talk to his master through the Force.

Qui-Gon slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying on his back, looking up into the sky. It was still a cloudless day and the sun was still beating down mercilessly on his body. He was so hot, yet inexplicably he also felt coolness on his skin. Looking down he could see he was lying in water. Where had it come from? Out here in this driest, hottest of deserts, where had the water come from? Right now he wasn't sure he cared. The coolness felt good—but he still was being burned by the sun. His mouth was still dry and raw. Hot and cold. Qui-Gon couldn't understand what was happening to him. He desperately wanted to dip his hand into the water to wet his parched throat, but he found himself unable to move his arms. Try as he might, he could initiate no motion to his appendages. In frustration he let his head fall back and just relaxed. He still felt very weak and sick—from the heat he imagined. It was an interesting sensation feeling the chilly water and the hot rays simultaneously. It was as if he was incapable of sensing both at the same time. Once he noticed the coolness on his skin, he became less aware of the heat. When he thought about the heat on his skin, he no longer perceived the cool relief the water provided. Then he heard a sound. Qui-Gon raised his head to look around the limited range of visibility he had from his prone position. He saw nothing and relaxed, letting his head come down on the ground again. He imagined he heard the sound once more, so very faint and far away. Breathing ever so slightly so he could hear better, he strained to listen. There it was again. Slowly the Jedi raised his head and looked. Far off, almost to the horizon, was the figure he had seen before, or he reasoned it must be. The figure was so far away Qui-Gon actually could make out no details. But ever so faintly he could hear.

"Master. Master. Can you hear me?"

After some time of both healers working at the tub, keeping the water flowing so it would not lose it's chill, making sure the water level was not too high, washing Qui-Gon's face with the chilled water; still the Jedi master's body temperature stubbornly refused to budge. Mi'al announced an end to the vigil for the day.

"You're giving up? But you said his temperature hasn't reduced any."

"Yes, Obi-Wan that is correct. However, it's not good to leave him in the water indefinitely. His body needs to rest from this. And we need to rest as well. It's well into the night. Why don't you go home and get some sleep."

"No, I promised Qui-Gon that I wouldn't leave and I won't. I'll stay here tonight."

Mi'al could see it would do no good to argue with the young Jedi, so simply sighed. "Very well. We will get Qui-Gon back into his room and you can sit with him as you like. Kiel and I will be retiring for the night since you will be here to look after him. We are just down the hallway if you need us in the night."

Obi-Wan walked down to Qui-Gon's room to wait for the healers to remove him from the tub and dry him. He collapsed into a chair and wrapped himself in his thoughts. He was so worried about his master and so concerned about what had happened on Janorda that he was sure he wouldn't sleep even if he did go back to his room. This would be his second consecutive night without sleeping, but even as weary as he was, he cared little for even attempting to sleep.

The padawan lost track of time and before he realized it, the two healers were rolling a gurney into the room. Gingerly the two healers lifted the Jedi into his bed and tucked the cover around him. Kiel left without another word. Mi'al came to stand next to Obi-Wan.

"He most likely will sleep through the night with his fever still up. If you require me for any reason, press this button," he indicated a panel near to the bed. "It sounds in my bedroom. I will be here quickly if need be." Mi'al turned and left the apprentice with his stricken master.

Obi-Wan gently placed his hand on the Jedi's forehead. "If I can do anything to help your healing, I want to."

Once again Qui-Gon slowly became aware of his environment. He couldn't determine if he was in the same location or not—it all looked the same as before—unending waves of sand as far as the eye could see. The water was gone—but the heat was not. He was still blistering under the nefarious sun. He was still drenched in sweat. His mouth was still parched. Frustration and anger swept over him. It seemed there was no way out of this furnace. And why could he not contact the Force? How had he gotten here? None of this nightmare made any sense to him. He thought back to his last memory before waking up in this desert. He had been on a transport with Obi-Wan. Is that how he came to be here? Did they land here…or crash here? Where was Obi-Wan. Then he remembered that he had seen his apprentice twice before. But where was he now? Qui-Gon turned a complete circuit, scanning all directions but saw no one. Checking his belt for his comm link turned up nothing—no comm link, no light saber. All was gone_. Augh! That murderous, wretched sun._ Burning, burning. And no where to take shade from it. For the first time Qui-Gon admitted he was out of ideas. The only thing he could think to do was to start walking. So he set out walking, walking.

Some time later Qui-Gon was back in the familiar situation he had found himself in the first time he had set out walking in this forsaken desert. He had walked for a long time and had found nothing—no oasis, no settlements. He had seen no evidence of any form of life here either—no birds, no insects—nothing. And—he had not seen Obi-Wan either. There was no way out of this hellhole Qui-Gon was convinced of it. He wondered for a moment if Obi-Wan had been able to find a way out…or if he had…. No, the Jedi master didn't want to linger on that thought at all, even though it seemed the most likely. He was so tired and so weak and so dehydrated that he knew he couldn't continue. He faced the fact that he was about to die in this hateful furnace of wasteland. He had always known that as a Jedi, he would constantly put himself in harm's way for the sake of peace and justice. But if he had died in such a situation, at least his death would have counted for something. To wither and die in this desert, for no good reason made him angry. But that wasn't enough to spur him on. He was simply too far-gone for anything to give him the encouragement to keep going. If there was even a cloud in the sky, or a tree on the horizon—something to let him know there was relief to be had—then he would continue. As it was, however, he was content to lie down, make peace with himself and die. As soon as Qui-Gon made that decision, he heard a sound. This time he didn't doubt that he heard it. He simply listened—for if the previous pattern repeated itself, he knew he would hear it again. And there it was. He started scanning his surroundings. There, far away near the horizon, was the same figure. He knew now it was Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan!" he croaked out. His mouth was so dry it was little more than a whisper.

"I want to help you," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon began stumbling toward his apprentice. "Don't go away this time! I need your help. Please help me."

Obi-Wan had become comfortable in his chair next to Qui-Gon's bed and had been able to finally settle down to a certain degree as he concentrated on sending thoughts to his master through the Force. Between his fatigue and his stillness, his eyelids had begun to feel heavy and the padawan was considering trying to take a nap. Suddenly his head snapped up—he had heard something. Obi-Wan sat upright and listened intently. Who would be roaming around this time of the night? Then he heard it again—not in the room—in his head. He heard his name. The apprentice studied the still form in the bed. What? Had he seen movement? Then he heard his name again. Yes! It was Qui-Gon's voice he heard. He moved to the bedside and looked into the face of the Jedi master. There was movement. Slight movement of the muscles at his mouth. The most response he had seen since the tyro had gotten Qui-Gon out of his prison on Janorda.

He reached down and gently grasped the master's hand. With his mind he called out to him. _Master, can you hear me? It's me Obi-Wan._

An answer returned to him almost immediately. _Don't go away this time. I need your help. Please help me._

Obi-Wan was so happy to finally see a reaction from the languishing Jedi that he could hardly contain himself. He wanted to run down the hallway to deliver the news to Mi'al—but he suddenly became thoughtful of Qui-Gon's words. _I need your help._

_Master, I'm here. What do you need for me to do?_

Qui-Gon was struggling against his weakness, against the shifting sand, against the heat. Struggling to get to Obi-Wan before he disappeared again. He was so tired, so sick. He was stumbling with every step. He couldn't see Obi-Wan because of the sun in his eyes. _I have to get to him. I have to._ He looked around. _Obi-Wan, where are you?_

Then he felt a hand against his own and heard the words. _ Master, I'm here. What do you need for me to do?_

Qui-Gon gave into his body's demands and collapsed into a heap there in the desert, in the hateful hell of a desert. But he still felt his padawan clutching his hand—and he knew it was all right.

_Obi-Wan, help me._

Obi-Wan instinctively put his hand to Qui-Gon's forehead. Just as he was hoping and half expecting the fire had died down. True enough, he was still hot with fever, however, the temperature didn't seem to be as high as earlier. In great comfort, Obi-Wan let his head drop to his chest and exhaled a deep sigh. The fever was breaking. His master was going to be all right.

_It's OK, Master. I'm right here. I won't leave. You're going to be all right. Just rest. Just rest._

Qui-Gon lay still in the warm sand and looked up into the face of his young padawan. He could feel relief flow from Obi-Wan's hand into his. _Just rest_ Obi-Wan was telling him. He felt assurance and consolation wash over him. He didn't have to fight anymore. He didn't have to keep struggling against the sand, the sun, the dry arid wasteland; it was over. It was over. He felt his entire body relaxing and with it his resolve. He could rest now. He closed his eyes and let the darkness of sleep overtake him.

Early the next morning Mi'al softly made his way to the hospital area. When he entered Qui-Gon's room the sight that greeted him was of an exhausted apprentice curled up in a chair asleep—yet his right hand, resting on the bed, was holding firmly to the hand of his master. Mi'al quietly crossed over to the bed and leaned over Qui-Gon. He seemed to have regained some color. The healer was greatly bolstered when he laid his hand on the Jedi's face. His fever had broken during the night and his temperature was well on its way to returning to something more normal. Mi'al did a closer check of Qui-Gon, trying to be careful not to disturb his rest. However, his gentle ministrations did rouse the master. Very slowly he opened his eyes and glanced around the room in an effort to establish his whereabouts.

"It is a great boon to see you awake, Master Qui-Gon," Mi'al said gently. But Qui-Gon didn't appear to be paying attention to the healer. He had noticed Obi-Wan coiled into the chair next to his bed, and his hand gripping his own.

"It wasn't a dream," he mused.

"I beg your pardon?" Mi'al was clearly confused.

"Perhaps you can tell me what happened to me," Qui-Gon replied simply.

Mi'al, heedful of Obi-Wan's need of rest, leaned forward so that he could speak quietly. He explained to the Jedi about the virus and his battle against it, not forgetting to add the escape from Janorda and Kelal's role—as well as a rebuke about leaving Coruscant without checking back in with the healers.

Despite his efforts not to disturb the padawan, Obi-Wan opened his eyes as Mi'al was coming near the end of his discourse. On seeing his master awake, Obi-Wan almost leaped from the chair. However, remembering himself he merely sat up and beamed at Qui-Gon.

"Master, it is so good to see you feeling better."

"I understand I owe a lot to you for rescuing me and bringing me back here. Thank you, Padawan." Obi-Wan didn't realize that he still was hanging onto his master's hand until he felt a firm grip of thanks from Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon had been released from the clinic but was not completely recovered from his ordeal. Therefore, he was taking a few days to rest and recuperate. Currently he was curled up on the couch in his room, alternating between napping and reading. The door chime sounded and Qui-Gon called out, "Come in, Obi-Wan."

The door slid open and the young padawan entered with a grin on his face. "It's true! Your Force ability has returned"

"Yes, now that the virus has been exterminated, my body is able to produce new healthy blood cells. And since my midiclorian count is determined on the genetic level, the cells will be reproduced according to the blueprint in my DNA and the midiclorians are returning to their former concentration." Qui-Gon swung himself into a sitting position and motioned Obi-Wan to a chair. "We haven't had a chance to talk much about what happened. When I was so ill, I know I had lost my ability to use the Force. So, I'm assuming that my ability to talk to you was because you were reaching out to me." The Jedi hesitated, seeking the right words. "I thought I was going to die, Obi-Wan. If you hadn't been there to reassure me…I'm not sure what would have happened. I was ready to give up my will to go on—even though I didn't understand what it was I was truly fighting against. Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"Master, you don't have to thank me. I was just drawing on what you have taught me. I was feeling instead of thinking. If I had stopped to think about what I was doing…I wouldn't have known what to do. Besides," Obi-Wan hesitated. "I don't deserve your thanks. I deserve your reprimand—more—your condemnation."

"Condemnation?" Qui-Gon replied, concern tingeing his voice. "For what?"

The padawan rose from the chair and walked away from his master. He walked to the wall which he leaned against and hung his head. Drawing in a deep breath he blurted it all out at once, "I almost took a man's life in anger. I almost gave in to my hate."

Qui-Gon was silent for a moment, then replied, "I see. Tell me."

"The governor, Kelal. He was playing games with me while I was trying to figure out where they had you hidden. I was concerned about you, and frustrated with him, and tired of them putting me off. Oh—I'm not trying to excuse what I've done—just trying to explain how it came about. I thought I could intimidate him into telling me where you were—but I let my anger go too far and I pulled my light saber on him and threatened to kill him." Obi-Wan was almost in tears by now.

Qui-Gon went to the padawan. He put his hand on his shoulder. "Obi-Wan, I won't try to give you false justification for what you did. It is a serious matter. But, listen to me," the Jedi master turned Obi-Wan to face him. "You _were_ able to stop yourself. You _didn't_ kill him. You faced the temptation—and you _overcame _it. Think on that."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond but Qui-Gon stopped him. "No. No more about it now. We'll talk more—a lot more—about it after you've had time to think about that. _You _made the choice to stop when you did."

An awkward silence passed as the padawan tried to think of an appropriate reply. Qui-Gon observed Obi-Wan's demeanor as he watched the apprentice squirm under his gaze. Then the master changed the subject to try to divert his thoughts. _Better he should think on it while alone, in meditation maybe _Qui-Gon thought.

"Mi'al tells me that the Jedi council had a meeting concerning this virus yesterday."

"Yes, I sat in that meeting. The council has decided to assign someone to delve into this, to see if they can find out who produced the virus. It's their opinion that this was manufactured by an enemy of the knights to be the fix to the "problem" of the Jedi—their ultimate solution to rid the Republic of the keepers of justice. I sure would like to be included in that investigation," Obi-Wan said with conviction.

"So would I, padawan, so would I."

Watch for the sequel "The Virus Builders" coming soon.


End file.
